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Bonfr ■ W A S % A 

Copyright N°—Gl3L_^ 

O- o PV ^ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
















THE GREEN EYED ONE 








THE 

GREEN EYED ONE 


BY 

F. RONEY WEIR * 


Author of “Merry Andrew,” etc. 



» > * 

% s 


BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 









Copyrighted, 1923 

By SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 

(incorporated) 


• b 

» • » 


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA 

Printed by Geo. H. Ellin CoBouton, Massachusetts 
Bound by Boston Bookbinding Co., Cambridge, Massachusetts 

SEP 29’23 ■ 

C1A759180 > 




MA «/ 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


v 








THE GREEN EYED ONE 


i 

It was fifteen minutes after seven of a clear, cool, 
April morning in Redmoon. The town was not 
yet astir save for the grocer’s boy putting out the 
display of early vegetables down street, and the 
sound of unseen motors splutteringly protesting, 
like lazy beasts of burden, against being made 
ready for the day’s work. 

Susan Dunlap paused a moment before the gay 
windows of her millinery store for a last survey 
before entering. It was opening day. Before 
ten o’clock half the women of Redmoon would 
have visited the store to handle, to admire, to de¬ 
cry or to purchase the confections now posed so 
freshly against the velvet backgrounds in the 
store windows. 

Susan gazed at the display through a haze of 
happiness, a happiness not unmixed with con¬ 
trition, for she was aware that the success of the 
event was due more to the industry of Gusta 
Klatz, her trimmer, than to her own. 

At the remembrance of the last three trium¬ 
phant weeks she drew a quick breath, catching her 


2 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

full under lip with her teeth as she stooped to 
unlock her door. Up the street she imagined she 
saw two customers looming into view and she 
wished for a few moments to herself before the 
turmoil of the day began. 

Safely inside the curtained doors she took off 
her small brown hat, her gloves, her natty brown 
coat and stood a moment before the full length 
mirror to gaze at the most successful person in 
Redmoon. She had never believed herself to be 
the least bit good-looking—pretty was not a word 
to apply to so large a girl—but she must be— 
something, or the most desired young man in the 
town would not have chosen her from amongst 
all Redmoon girls. 

She raised a shapely hand and turned a small 
diamond back and forth to catch the light, as she 
had done last night at* home before her own 
mirror. The light in the draped store was dim 
and the diamond refused its more brilliant 
scintillations, but the girls would be sure to see it 
soon enough. Gusta Klatz would cry out at 
sight of it and understand at once its presence on 
Susan’s finger; her cousin, Helen Pickens, who 
worked in the store, would look blankly at it and 
allow all her jealous envy to appear through her 
thick-lensed glasses. Helen’s father was well-to- 
do, with a big farm up at the west end of town. 
Helen had always had whatever she wanted ex- 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 3 

cepfc—Jeff Plummer. There was not a girl in 
town who would not have gladly worn the ring 
which Susan twisted so proudly upon her finger. 

She patted her heavy black hair into order, 
straightened her brown satin frock with its trans¬ 
parent garniture of chiffon about the waist and 
shoulders. Her cousin, Colinette Gard, had 
chosen this dress for her and sent it out from 
New York to wear at the opening. Colinette had 
known better than she could have known herself 
how the golden brown tints would bring out the 
russet splendors of Susan’s beauty. 

“I am, honestly, a lovely thing!” decided 
Susan, and rightly, for a new dress and a new 
lover will make a beauty of the plainest woman. 

On former opening days Susan had focused 
her attention on the stock, the appearance of the 
salesroom, the state of readiness of the two back 
workrooms, but today she was happily careless of 
all these. Gusta would see to them; her interest 
was centered upon herself; her personal appear¬ 
ance, her tumultuous memories of last night. 
For it was only last night that Jeff had given her 
the ring. 

The air of the store was heavy with the scent 
of varnished straw, artificial blooms, newly un¬ 
rolled velvets and laces. They overpowered the 
faint odor of the pussy-willows which Gusta 
Klatz had gathered and brought in from the west 


4 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


road the Sunday before. Gusta had promised to 
bring a bouquet of geraniums with her when she 
came this morning, a bouquet accumulated from 
the windows of West Brown Street. Sue’s 
mother would furnish a few treasured white ones, 
and Gram’ma Gard sole salmon-colored heads and 
Lady Washingtons. The red blossoms would be 
of Gusta’s own growing. 

She came presently, all in a nervous flutter of 
responsibility. Gusta, too, had heavy black hair 
which she wore rolled back over a narrow gold 
band which showed only upon the top of her head. 
It was much fluffed out at the sides because hats 
looked well over hair arranged in this man¬ 
ner. Her black net dress was perhaps, over¬ 
ornamented, yet tasty; she wore a heavy gold 
chain, garnet ear-drops, and many rings, for, 
as her brother Willie had described Gusta once 
long ago, “she loved things that went on.” 

“My, but you look swell!” she cried out at sight 
of Susan. “My, but isn’t that a pretty dress! 
Colinette knows what becomes you all right. 
Have any of the girls come yet? I see the 
smoke-colored toque has tipped a little there in 
the window. I’ll bet you anything we’ll sell that 
to Lizzie Smith. She likes dull things.” 

“Not drab enough for her,” responded Sue, 
reaching up to one of the green boxes on a shelf 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


5 

behind the counter with her beringed hand. But 
Gusta did not notice, so intent was she on making 
the last hat ready for the coming storm of cus¬ 
tom. 

Helen Pickens, in a mouse-hued silk, which ac¬ 
centuated her lack of color, came late. She was 
the first to notice Susan’s ring. Her eyes, as 
Susan had expected them to, glared with a frozen 
envy. 

“My!” she mocked, “where did you get all the 
jewelry?” 

“It’s Jeff’s,” laughed Sue. “We’re engaged.” 

Helen’s lips stiffened into a white line, and her 
murmured congratulations were lost in the noise 
of the arriving “tryers-on” up in front. 

Gusta reveled in millinery. She could not con¬ 
ceive of a greater triumph than was hers at that 
moment, for she had designed and executed the 
mulberry creation which the grocer’s wife was 
buying at a good round price. 

At five o’clock Helen Pickens pleaded a head¬ 
ache and went home. On the way she saw 
“Gram’ma Gard” standing on her little stoop bid¬ 
ding “good-by” to two church ladies who an¬ 
nounced their intention of attending the millinery 
opening on their way home. 

“I ain’t going to have anything new this 
spring,” one of them was saying, “but I’ll take 


6 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


my last year's hat in and see what Susan can do 
with it. I always leave everything to Sue and 
she fits me out all right.” 

“Susan Dunlap is a first class milliner,” wit¬ 
nessed the other woman, “besides being reason¬ 
able in her prices and pleasant to deal with.” 

The first speaker corroborated this statement, 
adding that, besides all this, she had “heaps of 
style.” 

Mrs. Gard glowed with pleasure at the appre¬ 
ciation accorded Susan. She had been singing 
the praises of her son’s daughter, Colinette Gard, 
during the afternoon, a subject of conversation 
not particularly interesting to her guests, because 
the young person in question no longer lived in 
Redmoon. Both ladies remembered well enough, 
however, that Colinette had been a strangely 
dominating presence, not alone in the immediate 
circle of her relatives, but in church, school, and, 
in fact, the entire town, and had gone away in a 
blaze of glory, as one might say, to study art in 
New York; had gone, and had stayed gone for 
four long years; years so full of excitement and 
sorrow that the young woman’s memory had be¬ 
come somewhat dim except as her doting grand¬ 
mother recalled it with letters, photographs, and 
sketchy examples of the young artist’s work. 
For the four years following Colinette’s going 
were the years of the great War. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 7 

Helen Pickens, although not at heart a cruel 
girl, felt a savage joy in the fact that the news 
she was bringing to Gram’ma Gard would not be 
welcome news. Uncle Luther Dunlap, Susan’s 
stepfather, would be pleased enough at Sue’s en¬ 
gagement to Marcus Plummer’s son. And of 
course if Uncle Luther was pleased Aunt Susan 
Dunlap would be. For wasn’t it the part of a 
wife always to be pleased with whatever pleased 
her husband? 

The look of dismay which spread over Mrs. 
Gard’s face when Helen delivered her tidings 
amply repaid that young person for bringing 
them. 

“Yes,” she finished, “she wore his ring in the 
store today. I noticed it before Gusta did. I 
think Gusta is blue over it.” 

“Why?” asked Mrs. Gard in a hushed voice. 

“She may lose her job when Sue marries. For 
of course Sue will sell out the store and a new 
milliner may not want a Redmoon girl for head 
trimmer. I know I shouldn’t if I owned the 
store. I’d send to Chicago for a real trimmer. 
You are all dressed up, Gram’ma Gard; were you 
going out?” 

“Your Aunt Susan and I thought we would go 
down to the opening a little while. I was just 
goin’ to step across to see if she is ready.” 

Helen resumed her journey home to bear the 


8 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

news to her own mother, while Mrs. Gard put on 
her things and “stepped across 5 ' to her daughter’s 
house. 

Mrs. Dunlap was not ready. She seldom was 
ready at the time appointed. There was always 
some unexpected task to delay her. Today it 
was bread which refused to bake because of lack 
of proper fuel for the kitchen stove. 

Mrs. Gard was glad to find Susan alone in the 
house. Nowadays one was so apt to discover 
Susan’s husband, Luther Dunlap, ensconced in 
the rocking-chair by the kitchen stove, or snoring 
on the sitting-room lounge. Dunlap belonged to 
the great army of men who retire from activity 
at the first touch of the hand of time. Since his 
stepdaughter, Susan, had made such a marked 
success at the millinery business and was there¬ 
fore able to “help some” with the household ex¬ 
penses he had been especially dilatory in hunting 
for work. The “some” of Susan’s helping 
amounted to such generous proportions that both 
Luther and his son, Elmer, made but negligible 
contributions to the budget. 

Mrs. Gard heard the thud, thud of an unskilful 
axe at the back door. Mrs. Dunlap, in her best 
dress, was splitting up a block of wood to hasten 
the baking fire. 

“Does seem, Susan,” protested Mrs. Gard 
mildly, “as if Luther or Elmer could manage to 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 9 

keep a little wood split up ahead so you wouldn’t 
allers have to do it.” 

“Yes, does seem so,” responded Susan Dunlap 
in the lifeless tone which had become habitual 
with her. “Rob used to keep me pretty well 
sawed and split up ahead, but since he went away 
—dear me!—you know how Luther and Elmer 
are. They don’t mean to be lazy; it’s just 
thoughtlessness. Actually, Sue cuts most of the 
wood nights after she gits home from the store. 
She actually does.” 

“Well, by what I hear, Luther’ll have to split 
his own wood after this, or hustle Elmer a little 
bit.” 

“Why, what do you mean?” demanded her 
daughter, pausing in her work and turning a thin 
face up to her mother. 

“Helen just stopped in to my place to tell me 
that Susan’s goin’ to be married.” 

A blueness crept around Mrs. Dunlap’s lips. 
She stood up and put a hand to her side in a fee¬ 
ble, inadequate way which went to her mother’s 
heart. Mrs. Gard stepped down and gathered 
the armful of wood which Susan had so painfully 
made ready. 

“No, ma, you’ll spoil your dress; let it alone. 
I’ll carry it in.” 

But Mrs. Gard went sturdily up the steps with 
her load, took off the stove lid and thrust in two 


io 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

sticks. Mrs. Dunlap followed and sank into a 
chair like one who had received a blow. 

“I was afraid of it,” she said at last. “He’s 
been hangin’ around here a good deal lately. 
Luther’ll be all set up over it, I s’pose. He’ll 
think it’s a great honor to be married into the 
Plummer family. Seems awful queer that Susan 
should tell her Cousin Helen before she told her 
own ma.” 

Mrs. Gard stooped to peep into the oven. “It 
appears that Susan is wearing a new diamond 
ring in the store today. Couldn’t resist the 
temptation of flashin’ it at the opening. That’s 
how Helen found it out.” 

“It’s awful hard for a mother when her 
daughter marries,” sighed Mrs. Dunlap. 

“Nobody knows that better’n I do,” agreed 
Mrs. Gard and looked at her daughter compas¬ 
sionately. Susan Dunlap bore many signs of de¬ 
feat in her life-long battle with hard work. 
“Even if the daughter gits the best kind of a man 
goin’. And good men are as scurse as hen’s teeth 
nowadays,” finished Mrs. Gard. 

“Well, girls will marry if they have a chance,” 
sighed Mrs. Dunlap in extenuation of her daugh¬ 
ter’s step, “and their chances are slimmer now 
even than before the War.” 

“I s’pose they be,” agreed Mrs. Gard sorrow¬ 
fully. “Have you heard when Rob’ll be home?” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


11 


"No, but it won’t be long now'. He’s mad to 
think of all that trainin’ and then never to git 
across. And look what luck Willie Klatz has had 
—seen the ocean, and France, and the War, and 
never got wounded but once and then not bad, 
and got all sorts of medals for bravery and so on, 
besides being Lieutenant Klatz now.” 

"Well, Rob shouldn’t be mad because he didn’t 
git to go across, he was ready to go if he had 
been needed, and that’s more’n Jeff Plummer can 
say.” 

Susan Dunlap took out the bread. Her face 
showed deep displeasure at her mother’s words. 

"I’d hate to think the man who is goin’ to be 
Susan’s husband is a coward,” she said. 

"Oh well, I don’t s’pose he is,” soothed Mrs. 
Gard, repenting of her injudicious speech. 

"There was a good deal said at the time of the 
draft,” persisted Susan, as if to force her mother 
into a fuller expression of confidence in young 
Plummer. 

"I know there was. But young Doc. Snyder 
said Jeff Plummer wasn’t fit to go.” 

"But old Doc. Merton said that was all moon¬ 
shine and that Jeff Plummer was as fit to go as 
any boy in Redmoon. He said it was Marcus’s 
money that got the clearance for Jeff, but of 
course, nobody knows. I do hope if Susan mar¬ 
ries Jeff Plummer we shall all like him.” 


12 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“I hope so,” said Mrs. Gard with a great show 
of cheerfulness. 

Susan got on her hat and coat and the two 
women started for town. As they passed the 
Plummer residence the thought in the minds of 
both women was that it had a down-at-heel ap¬ 
pearance; that it needed paint. 

“Waldo Pickens says that Marcus Plummer 
ain’t been doin’ very well in his business since the 
War,” said Mrs. Dunlap timidly. 

“Yes, Waldo says he can’t git help to carry on 
the business since the War started.” 

“Seems to me him and Jeff ought to be able to 
manage a business in a small town like this—” 

Mrs. Gard made no reply. They both knew 
that Jeff Plummer, pampered only son of a near- 
wealthy man, had not been trained to take labor 
seriously. Suddenly Mrs. Dunlap gave way: 

“Oh dear! Oh dear!” she whimpered, “Pm 
afraid Susan’s in for a hard time all her life, and 
she don’t deserve it! It’s a shame. She don’t 
deserve it! She’s just the best child a mother 
ever had! She’s been abused all her life by 
Luther Dunlap and his boys, and now she’s goin’ 
to be abused by the Plummers—” 

“Hush up!” hissed her mother, “Here comes 
Mis’ Plummer now! She’s got a bandbox. 
She’s been after her hat. Wipe your glasses, 
Susan, for pity’s sake! You might as well brace 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


13 

up an’ bear what you have to bear, you poor girl. 
You’ve certainly had enough trouble, goodness 
knows!” 

Mrs. Plummer passed the two with a cool little 
nod. She was a sour-faced, important little per¬ 
son who, in all probability, did not know as yet of 
the matrimonial bond forming between her fam¬ 
ily and that of her neighbor’s, and would not have 
approved if she had. 

“I never could abide that woman!” whispered 
Susan fiercely, “Little black, stuck-up thing. 
My! She’ll be Susan’s mother-in-law!” 

They found young Susan in a triumphant dis¬ 
order. She and Gusta were alone in the store, 
which bore evidence to the storm which had 
raged all day. 

“You should have seen us!” exclaimed Gusta 
Klatz. “I guess everybody in town has been in 
here today.” 

“Not everybody,” laughed Susan, “but the rest 
of them will get around this evening. You run 
up to supper now*, Gusta so as to give me a chance 
before the evening crowd comes in. What’s the 
matter, ma? Have you a headache?” 

Her mother denied the headache, and shrank 
in expectancy of Susan’s announcement. But 
Susan did not see fit to tell her news just then. 
She was disappointed that her mother and grand¬ 
mother should have chosen so late an hour for 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


H 

their inspection of the opening. All day she had 
hoped that her lover would manage to pass the 
store at the supper hour when he knew that she 
would be alone. While her mother and grand¬ 
mother threaded their admiring course through 
the jungle of trimmed hats, trailing gauzes and 
exotic blooms, she went frequently to the front 
door to snap out a perfectly clean dustcloth. On 
the last of these trips she distinctly saw Jeff 
Plummer down on the corner beyond the post- 
office in earnest conversation with his old sweet¬ 
heart, Lila Merton. 

A surge of almost unendurable jealousy swept 
over Susan; jealousy which had grown and faded 
and come to life again during the month just past, 
and which she in her ignorance supposed would 
be done for forever when she and Jeff w;ere really 
engaged. 


II 


It was a number of days later before Jeff Plum¬ 
mer stopped at the door of the milliner store for 
a word with Susan. 

“Heard you had a swell turnout at the open¬ 
ing/’ he remarked. 

“Yes. Why didn’t you come in and see the 
store all fixed up? I sort of expected you.” 

“Oh, I’m a better judge of milliners than of 
millinery,” he joked. “I’m afraid of women.” 

“You didn’t seem to be afraid of one down on 
the street-corner that day of the opening.” 

“Oh, did you see us talking down there? That 
was Lila. I hadn’t seen her before for a coon’s 
age. She’s lookin’ thin—don’t you think so?” 

“I don’t know; I haven’t seen her in a coon’s 
age either. She keeps strictly away from me.” 

Jeff laughed. “I supposed she was up to the 
hat fight.” 

“No, she never came near.” 

Jeff laughed again. “You women are the 
limit! Why don’t you live and let live?” 

An inarticulate rage choked Susan. She was 
aware instinctively that it would be better to keep 
still—not to let Jeff see how he could hurt her, but 

diplomacy was not Susan's strong point. 

15 



16 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“I don’t like your standing long hours on the 
street-corner talking to a girl you used to go with! 
I don’t like it!” she stormed. They were at the 
shop door and Susan stooped to lock it. Jeff took 
the key from her in a masterful way and locked 
the door himself. Then he swung Susan about 
and tucked his hand under her elbow roughly. 

“Come on, now, Skookums, don’t be a jealous 
old grouch. You can’t expect to keep a fellah 
shut up in your handbag with your handkerchief 
and your keys. See? Even if you are wearin’ 
his ring. The girls will meet a fellah on the 
street now and then, even after he is married. 
See? You’ll have to get used to that. I’m no 
sissy. You knew that before you agreed to hitch 
up with me, so let’s change the subject, eh?” He 
threw an arm about her and crushed her to him 
without regard to her finery. 

“Oh, Jeff!” she protested, and he laughed reck¬ 
lessly. 

“I hear you was a swell dame at your hat fair; 
swung all kinds of style, eh?—you and the girls. 
I'm told you just everlastingly swept all the Red- 
moon women off their feet; pinched the dollars 
out of ’em as fast as they could line up to the 
counter. Is that straight?” 

“We had a big day,” acknowledged Susan with 
justifiable pride. 

“You bet, that’s the way to catch ’em, when 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


17 

they ain’t lookin’. How much did you take in?” 

“In cash, about a hundred and fifty dollars, but 
of course we took lots of orders which have gone 
out since. I shall be awfully busy from now on 
until the first of July.” 

“Too busy for me to be hanging around; that 
what you mean?” 

“You know better, Jeff. I’m never too busy to 
see you, but I want to make all the money I 
can this summer, seeing it’s my last summer 
in business. It is to be my last summer, isn’t 
it?” 

“I shouldn’t wonder; unless you want to keep 
right on. You like the business pretty well, don’t 
you?” 

“Yes, I do. I’ve always liked the business.” 

“Well then, what’s the matter with keeping 
right on with it?” 

“I can’t keep house and millinery store too.” 

“We’ll board; it’s cheaper than keeping up a 
place anyhow. We’ll board with mother and 
father. How does that suit you?” 

“Anything that suits you, Jeff, suits me.” 

“That will leave us both a good deal freer. 
Our house has always been too big for our fam¬ 
ily.” 

“But—Jeff, I don’t believe your mother likes 
me well enough for that—to have me always in 
the same house with her.” 


18 * THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“What makes you think my mother doesn’t like 
you?” 

“Well, she has lived neighbor to our folks all 
her life but has never neighbored with us.” 

“She may like you and not the rest of your 
folks. I’ll tell the world I don’t care much about 
Luther Dunlap myself.” 

Susan had, at times, experienced the same feel¬ 
ing toward her stepfather, but she did not relish 
the bald statement on the lips of her lover. 

“You seem to like Luther Dunlap’s son aw¬ 
fully well; you two are together half the time 
nowadays.” 

Jeff laughed again. “Elmer’s trying to get 
on to our team. Elmer wants to play ball. I 
don’t believe he ever will, though. He’s an aw¬ 
ful mutt—is Elmer. Always gittin’ into trou¬ 
ble in strange towns. That won’t do, you know. 
You can hit a pace in your own town, but when 
you take to roamin’ in a neighboring village 
you’ve kindah got to stick to the Sunday School 
stuff. See?” 

“Jeff, is it true that Elmer got drunk over at 
the Ridge last week?” 

“Well, Elmer was considerably lit up.” 

“Jeff, I don’t like that. It makes lots of trou¬ 
ble for our folks. Elmer is going pretty fast for 
a young boy. He’s just a kid.” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


19 

“You should worry. You’ll be shut of the 
whole crowd before fall.” 

“I shall never be shut of my mother nor my 
grandmother, never.” 

“You think so now, but you’ll be surprised how 
soon you’ll get away from ’em after you’re mar¬ 
ried. That’s the way with young folks always. 
When they strike out for themselves they soon 
learn to stand alone. It has to be that way. 
Suppose one generation hung on to the generation 
behind and that to the next—why, my lord, where 
would they be? Nowjhere. And the old folks 
don’t expect it. They expect the young ones to 
stand on their own pins. Say, Lila was telling 
me yesterday that Gertie Calkins and young Doc. 
Snyder are going to pull off a match.” 

“You don’t mean it!” Susan was delighted. 
Nothing interested her so much nowadays as en¬ 
gagements. She heartily disliked Gertie Calkins 
but the fact that Gertie, as well as herself, was 
engaged to be married, established a bond between 
herself and her old enemy of high school days. 
How Gertie had queened it over her until her 
cousin, Colinette, had appeared and broken Gertie 
Calkins ring of power for good! How Gertie 
and her minions, Lizzie Smith, the dress-maker’s 
daughter, and Lila Merton, the doctor’s daughter, 
and the others had been taught to crawl to Coli- 


20 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


nette’s little feet; and how Colinette had dragged 
all of her relatives up to her own level of impor¬ 
tance ! It had been wonderful—that elevation of 
the Dunlaps and Gards and Klatzes and the rest 
of the dwellers in that undesirable region known 
as “above the railroad.” 

She had not seen Colinette for four years, those 
four years of War and uncertainty. Grand¬ 
mother Gard received a letter weekly. At first 
those letters had been mailed in New York; later 
they came from overseas and were read six weeks 
or so after they had been written. Now the War 
was over; the soldiers straggling home, in com¬ 
panies, in groups—one at a time. The Bray 
boys were home, and the Johnsons—what were 
left of them—but Willie Klatz was still on the 
other side. Colinette was again in New 
York picking up the tangled threads of her 
work— 

“S’matter, Skookums? What you poutin' 
about?” demanded Jeff. 

“I’m not pouting; I was thinking.” 

“About what?” 

But Susan would not tell him. They had 
reached the Dunlap door and Jeff accepted 
Susan’s invitation to come in. He knew that his 
dislike for Luther Dunlap was not reciprocal. 
Dunlap always flattered and cringed when in 
the presence of a Plummer. Susan’s marriage 



21 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

would not add to the material prosperity of the 
Dunlap household; it would rather detract, but 
think of the honor of being matrimonially allied 
with the Plummers! Luther had only been aware 
of the engagement of his wife’s daughter to Jeff 
Plummer a short time, but he had already broken 
the tidings to his sister’s husband, Waldo Pick¬ 
ens. 

“Goin’ to have a weddin’ at our house pretty 
soon, I s’pose,” he announced nonchalantly, not¬ 
ing with pleasure Waldo’s pained expression. 

“So Helen’s tellin’ us,” replied Pickens shortly. 
Waldo and his wife had imagined at one 
time that Jeff Plummer was making up to their 
Helen. 

Luther greeted his future stepson-in-law with 
great warmth: “Well, how’s the Plummers? 
Take a chair. How’s the Redmoon nine goin’ 
to account for failin’ down at the game last Sat¬ 
urday? Come now, make a clean breast of the 
matter.” 

Elmer was not a whit behind his father in the 
cordiality of his welcome. Susan herself was no 
deeper in love with young Plummer than was her 
stepbrother. 

The three launched into a fervid discussion of 
the game which lasted the better part of an hour. 
In the safety of the kitchen Susan’s mother mur¬ 
mured, “I should think that Elmer and your pa 


22 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

i 

would know better than to buckle Jeff right down 
to baseball. They ought to remember what he 
comes here for.” 

“You look tired to death, ma,” mourned Susan 
with a guilty remembrance of her lover’s predic¬ 
tion that the time drew near when she would for¬ 
get this poor, overworked mother with the rest of 
the Dunlaps. 

Was that true? Should she forget all the 
kindness and patience and tenderness lavished on 
her, more or less surreptitiously to be sure, but 
all the more touchingly, by this mild, tired 
woman ? 

Suddenly she went over and threw her arms 
about her mother’s neck and began to sob noisily. 
Mrs. Dunlap, startled, warned her to “hush up!” 
and demanded to know “whatever was the mat¬ 
ter?” 

She was unable to tell very coherently, and her 
mother believed her emotion had been called forth 
by Jeff’s holding interest of the discussion of the 
bad luck of the home team. She managed to 
break up the ball social and to give Susan a half 
hour alone with her lover behind the closed parlor 
door. 

But it was not an especially happy hour, Jeff’s 
mind being still upon the sorrows of the Redmoon 
nine, and Susan’s in a state of flux betwixt love 


.THE GREEN EYED ONE 23 

and filial duty. Then Jeff discovered that Susan 
had been weeping and demanded to know the rea¬ 
son. 

For the first, Susan was confronted by the 
question of perfect confidence between lovers. A 
more tactful person might have led Jeff’s interest 
into different channels, but Susan drew long, sob¬ 
bing breaths and remained dumb. 

“Is your mother mad because I came home 
with you?” demanded Jeff. 

“Oh my, no; mother likes you.” 

“Well, you were all right until you went out 
into the kitchen. Come now; you’re so keen on 
my tellin’ you everything I do and everything I 
say—won’t let me speak to a friend on the street 
without gittin’ sore about it—” 

“Oh, Jeff, I never—” 

“Yes you did too. And then you come in with 
your eyes and nose looking like cherries and 
won’t tell why.” 

“Oh, Jeff, must I tell you why?” 

“Do just as you darn please.” 

“Well—then—I was crying because I—feel 
sort of—bad about leaving my mother—” 

“Well, if you feel as bad as all that comes to, 
we’ll call the deal off.” 

“Oh, Jeff, how quick you take up things! I 
don’t believe you care for me at all.” 



24 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“Don’t you think so? Wha’d’ yeh s’pose Em 
hanging round this joint for? Do you think Em 
courting your mother or the old man?” 

“No. I suppose I am awful trying, Jeff.” 
She gazed yearningly at him hoping for a denial, 
but Jeff, nursing his own wrongs, decided to dis¬ 
cipline her a bit. 

“You ain’t what you might call handsome, with 
your nose red like this.” 

Susan gazed over his shoulder into a possible 
future of many tears; into a future when her hair 
would be gray and thin like her mother’s; when 
her dark cheek would take on the yellowish pallor 
of middle age where no rose would bloom; when 
her teeth— 

Well, there was no use in anticipating that 
dark day; she was still young and fresh and 
blooming—yes, it was still her day. 

Jeff was at the parlor door which led out upon 
the narrow front porch. She longed for a per¬ 
fect understanding before he went. 

“We shall always love each other, sha’n’t we, 
dear?” she murmured. 

“I’ll say we shall,” promised Jeff, but added in 
an undertone as they stood on the porch together, 
“You must get this good and plenty, though; I 
ain’t marryin’ any other member of your family 
except you.” 

“Oh yes, Jeff, I understand.” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 25 

She received his good night embrace and after¬ 
wards stood to listen to the sound of his steps as 
he clattered over the loose boards of the walk in 
the direction of his own home. Even after he 
had turned the corner down by the stark old Pet- 
tingill House, she stood sorrowfully in the dark 
of the porch thinking over the great things of 
life. The girl’s lover claimed her; his love must 
of a necessity drive out all the old loves, mother, 
grandmother, and—Cousin Colinette. Every¬ 
one. She wished that she might keep all her 
loves, but, of course, as Jeff had said, when a per¬ 
son—especially a girl—took on new ties, she had 
to make room for them by a slight or an alto¬ 
gether loosening of the old. 

The question popped into her mind as to how 
far Jeff would disconnect himself from his own 
family when he married. He had been an only 
child, petted and indulged; his wish the law of 
the household. Would her love and care make 
up to him for that of his doting parents? And 
how much more painful must be the rending of 
home ties on his part than on hers, whose home, 
in her stepfather’s house, subject to the whims of 
her stepfather’s children, deprived of all the lux¬ 
uries and many of the necessities of life, had been 
barren enough until she had become able to pro¬ 
vide those luxuries and necessities for herself. 

How perfectly wonderful it was that Marcus 



26 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


Plummer’s son should have chosen her, Susan 
Dunlap, from amongst all Redmoon girls! 

‘‘'Mrs. Jeff Plummer!” she whispered, then 
laughed softly and actually blushed there alone 
in the dark at her own folly. 

The sound of Jeff ’s steps ceased and still Susan 
lingered on the porch. Suddenly it seemed as if 
she were waiting for something to happen— 
something of moment. She heard her mother’s 
slow movements about the living room setting 
things to rights before retiring; she heard El¬ 
mer’s stumping progress upstairs to bed; she 
heard her stepfather grumbling out some com¬ 
plaint as he wound the clock. He always thought 
up things to find fault about while winding the 
clock. Then there were the sounds of approach¬ 
ing footsteps, clipping along in a springy, young- 
man fashion. Could it be Jeff coming back? 
There were no young men on Upper Brown 
Street to be coming home at this time in the eve¬ 
ning. 

The feet tripped on a loose board, their owner 
muttered something and came on again. It 
could not be Jeff; he was better acquainted with 
the loose boards in that walk. 

The traveler crossed the street and a moment 
later a square of light bloomed under Mrs. Gard’s 
porch, framing the figure of Mrs. Gard herself. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 27 

Susan could not hear what passed between her 
grandmother and the caller, but she did hear the 
quick clatter of his returning feet, accompanied 
by a piercing, tuneless whistle. 

She stepped back into the house. Luther Dun¬ 
lap was putting away the clock key. 

“I’m going to run over to gram’ma’s a min¬ 
ute,’' she told him. 

“Is Jeff gone?” 

“Yes, quite a while ago.” 

“Well then, you come along in an’ git to bed 
so’s’t the house can quiet down an’ a body git 
some kind of rest! Look at the time o’ night; 
half-past ten!” 

“Why, of course, Susan,” called her mother 
from her bedroom back of the parlor, “your 
gram’ma’s to bed a long time ago.” Mrs. Dun¬ 
lap always seconded her husband’s motion. She 
found it easier that way, especially when said mo 
tion related in any way to young Susan. 

“No, gram’ma isn’t in bed. Someone came 
there to the door just now. I saw ’em. I’m go¬ 
ing to step over and see who it was.” 

Dunlap said it was someone to ask the way, 
probably, but he withdrew his objection, and sat 
in his sock feet with suspenders dangling, to 
await the report. 

He did not have long to wait. Susan returned 


1 


28 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


almost immediately. There was no elation in her 
voice as she announced her news. 

“It was a telegram from Colinette,” she said. 
“Colinette is coming home for the summer. She 
will be here the first of May.” 


Ill 


The disturbance of Colinette’s coming began the 
very night that Mrs. Gard received the telegram. 
She went about in an excited frame of mind, tak¬ 
ing inventory of household stores, sheets, pillows, 
tablecloths. Now and then her thoughtful ex¬ 
pression gave way to one of satisfied content. 

“It’ll make a difference—her cornin’,” she mur¬ 
mured, “it allers does make a difference when 
she’s round, either for better or for worse. Lit¬ 
tle Colinette! My own little Colinette! Back 
here in Redmoon after bein’ away so long! Dear 
suz!” After Mrs. Gard had gone to bed and 
dropped into a disturbed slumber she would 
waken wondering what gave her that excited 
feeling. Then it would come back to her— “Oh 
yes, Colinette, coming ‘back after four long 
years!” 

Her granddaughter Susan’s rest was disturbed 
also, and by the same cause. Susan had strange 
dreams; some of them unpleasant—prophetic. 
She awoke in the morning unrefreshed and nerv¬ 
ous. She stretched her arm above her head, 
drew them down again and lay studying her 
hands; large, but smooth, with pink, well- 
manicured nails. The palms were pink also. 

29 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


3o 

No callouses there now, in spite of occasional 
wood-chopping. 

The callouses were doubly hard on her mother’s 
hands, as she knew, but she couldn’t help that, 
could she? Elmer and her stepfather were sup¬ 
posed to attend to all the coarse chores. They 
didn’t, of course, and they never would, but they 
could no longer shirk them off upon her shoul¬ 
ders. 

And who was it who had emancipated her from 
such slavery? Why, who but Cousin Colinette. 

And yet—she was sorry that Colinette was 
coming home. 

At breakfast the conversation was all of the 
telegram of the night before. 

“How long she goin’ to stay?” demanded 
Luther Dunlap, helping himself to the most 
shapely egg. He, too, disapproved of Colinette’s 
visit. 

“She won’t stay long,” soothed his wife. 
“They say she works pretty hard in New York.” 

“Rats!” said Elmer, “I’d like a job I didn’t 
have to work at any harder than at that job of 
hers.” 

“Well, I s’pose you could a done her job if 
you’d gone to work an’ learned it,” said Luther. 
“ ’Tain’t anything so wonderful, to make pictures 
that look kindah like somebody. I used to do it 
when I was a boy in school.” 


THE GREEN 1 EYED ONE 31 

“It’ll be a good thing for you, Susan,” said her 
mother, “Colinette will know all about what you 
ought to get for your outfit, and how you ought 
to have it made.” 

“Yah!—Ha, ha! She’ll know all about your 
fellah, too; so much that she’ll have him tagging 
off after her if you don’t watch out. Jeff is a 
great chap to make up to the newest girl in 
town.” 

Elmer had calculated the effect of his words to 
a nicety. Susan’s face was red to bursting. Up 
went her hands, and she sprang from the table 
and ran into the parlor, slamming the door be¬ 
hind her. With a resentful glance at her step¬ 
son, Mrs. Dunlap followed her daughter. Susan 
was prone on the carpet-lounge indulging in a 
noisy storm of emotion. 

“There, there, dear,” soothed her mother, 
“don’t carry on so! Elmer knows that he can 
send you off this way, or he wouldn’t have said 
what he did.” 

“What Elmer said is the truth!” sobbed Susan. 
“Jeff is always staring after girls who are better 
looking than I am!” 

“Well, Susan, you’ll have to git used to that; 
all men are that way. They are even worse after 
they are married. You’ve just got to git used to 
it. You must remember, too, that Jeff left Lila 


32 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

Merton to make up to you when you began to be 
successful in business and dress right up to 
scratch. You didn’t seem to feel so bad about 
men’s infidelity then when you was gittin’ the 
upper hand. And right there is a fault that I 
guess all girls are guilty of—not that I’m blam¬ 
ing ’em altogether; they have a hard time gittin’ 
settled but almost any of ’em will cut in on an¬ 
other girl’s love affair if she happens to want the 
man. It’s supposed to be two men who fight over 
one girl, but it ain’t apt to be that way any 
more.” 

Susan made no reply, but she stopped sobbing 
and sat up. 

“Now you run around the west side of the 
house into the kitchen by the back door, bathe 
your face an’ eyes and then come in and finish 
your breakfast,” advised her mother. 

“I don’t want any breakfast,” replied Susan. 

“But think what a hard day you’re likely to 
have in the store; it’s silly to go off to work with¬ 
out anything to eat.” 

“I couldn’t eat a mouthful. I can bathe my 
face down there and I want to get there before 
Helen and Gusta do. I suppose I’ll have to take 
this sort of talk all day from Helen and—well, 
whoever happens in.” 

“Gusta won’t nag you.” 

“No, Gusta won’t, but Helen Pickens will, and 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 33 

Gertie Calkins if she happens to come in and has 
heard.” 

“And Lila Merton, I s’pose. But you couldn’t 
altogether blame Lila Merton if she should, could 
you, Susan?” 

“Lila Merton never steps her foot inside of my 
store,” replied Susan coldly. “She and her 
mother went clear to Milltown to buy their hats, 
and good riddance go with them, say I! As for 
Jeff giving her up for me, there never was any 
real engagement between her and Jeff. He told 
me so himself. They just sort of grew' up to¬ 
gether and Lila took him for granted. Of course 
Jeff’s mother egged on the affair. She would 
rather Jeff married the doctor’s daughter than a 
girl whose stepfather mends roofs and putties in 
windows. But Jeff liked me better and so he 
dropped Lila and began to go with me.” 

“Well, I don’t think you need worry about Col- 
inette. Colinette likes you too. She wouldn’t 
demean herself to flirt with your steady fellow, 
don’t you ever believe she would. After all she’s 
done for you, and always written to you so nice, 
and sent you things from the city, and after 
you’ve taken care of Gram’ma Gard for her, an’ 
done just what she sent word for you to do for 
her—why, you must be crazy to think of such 
a thing! I’ll tell you what I’ll do: I’ll go over 
and see your gram’ma and warn her not to let—” 


34 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“You’ll do nothing of the kind, Ma Dunlap! 
Do you think I want it horned all over town that 
I’m jealous of Jeff?” 

“Well you’ve started the horning pretty well 
yourself by lettin’ on this way this morning be¬ 
fore your pa and Elmer.” 

“I know it. But don’t you say one word to 
Gram’ma Gard about this matter.” 

“You know Colinette would cut her head off 
before she would do anything to mad Gram’ma 
Gard.” 

“She used to be that way when she lived here, 
but you’ll find out that New York and France and 
the War and being away from gram’ma so long, 
has changed her a good deal.” 

“I s’pose that’s true. But she’s fond of us; 
we’re all the folks she’s got, and she wouldn’t do 
anything to hurt us for the world. Now you 
mark what I say: She’ll help git you ready and 
she’ll stand up with you and put on all sorts of 
style. And here you are squalling because she’s 
coming home. Why, Susan, she’ll feel awful if 
she ever finds it out.” 

“She’ll find it out quick enough, you needn’t 
worry; Elmer’ll tell her as soon as he gets a good 
chance.” 

“That’s why I’m sorry you made such a fuss 
this morning. Why, Susan, you must learn to 
control your feelings better. When you’re mar- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


35 

ried you’ll find out that you just have to control 
an’ control the whole livin’ time. It’s the women 
who don’t learn to control their feelin’s, and to 
let things that just break their hearts pass in 
silence, that git the divorces. Men won’t stand 
for squalling and jawing. If there’s any jawing 
to be done they want to do it themselves.” 

“It don’t seem to me as if I could stand things 
like that!” declared Susan passionately. 

“You ought not to plan to get married, then,” 
responded her mother in her hopeless, colorless 
fashion, and went out to bring in Susan’s things. 

Susan sat staring at her plump, pink fingers 
upcurled in her lap. She was thinking very 
hard, and when her mother came back with her 
cloak, hat, and her veil trailing across her arm, 
she said, “mother, I’ve been thinking about my 
wedding—” 

“Are you going to give it up?” asked her 
mother with a faraway little cadence of hope in 
her voice. 

“Indeed not! But I’m going to hurry it up. 
I’m not going to wait till I can get clothes made, 
I’m going to tell Jeff that I’m willing to be mar¬ 
ried right away. He will be glad; he wants to 
be married right away. ‘The sooner the better,’ 
he said to me one evening. I can make my wed¬ 
ding clothes when we get back from our honey¬ 
moon trip.” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


36 

“Maybe that will be best,” admitted Mrs. Dun¬ 
lap reluctantly. “I’d hate to have anything hap¬ 
pen between you and Jeff—” she turned to make 
sure she had shut the parlor door behind her— 
“it would tickle the Pickenses so.” 

“Yes, wouldn’t it! Think how Aunt Rinthy 
and Helen set their caps at Jeff, and how sore 
they’ve been ever since he took up with me.” 

Mrs. Dunlap smiled reminiscently. It had 
been the great triumph of a life almost wholly de¬ 
void of triumphs. 

“I thought I wanted to wait until after Gertie 
Calkins’s wedding and see how it was done, but 
now that Colinette is coming she will know all 
about weddings, and maybe I will have such a 
pretty one that Gertie will be patterning after 
me.” 

“That’s the way to look at things,” encouraged 
her mother. “Run along now and be happy,” 
and she added when Susan was well down the 
walk, “while you can!” 

Mrs. Dunlap went back into the parlor for a 
moment before rejoining her family at the break¬ 
fast-table. She shook her head slowly and her 
sunken mouth drew down at the corners in 
a twitching misery. She lifted her work-apron 
and pressed it against her lips, sobbing dryly. 
Whichever way things turned out, there was of 


37 


t THE GREEN EYED ONE 

course, nothing for poor Susan but trouble. If 
she were to lose Jeff Plummer it would break her 
heart, and if she got him she would go the same 
dreary round that her mother had gone. Well, 
for some inscrutable reason of His own, God had 
willed that women must suffer. 

“Where’s she gone?” demanded Luther when 
his wife had resumed her place at the breakfast- 
table. 

“To the store.” 

“Why didn’t she come along and finish her 
breakfast like a sane person?” 

“She’s got her work cut out for her if she ex¬ 
pects to keep Jeff Plummer tied to her apron- 
strings,” remarked Elmer with a wise smile. 

“Well, neither you nor Jeff are as smart as you 
think you be,” growled Dunlap. He was proud 
enough of the Plummer alliance, but he was not 
entirely pleased with what Jeff and his crowd was 
doing for Elmer. 

“Wha’d she go off without her breakfast for?” 
he began again. 

“Why, Luther, you know it was what Elmer 
said that drove her off.” It was all that Mrs. 
Dunlap could do to restrain her own tears. 

“If John Gard’s girl goes to foolin’ round with 
the affairs of this family she’s goin’ to hear from 
me!” declared Dunlap, glaring at his wife as if 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


38 

she alone were responsible for the coming of 
“John Gard’s girl/' “I don’t see what’s bringin’ 
her here anyhow. Nobody wants her.” 

“It ain’t John’s girl nor anything to do with 
John’s girl that upset Susan,” whimpered Mrs. 
Dunlap. “It’s the hectorin’ way Elmer had this 
morning. He always has hectored Susan, and 
I s’pose he always will as long as he’s got her 
round to hector.” Mrs. Dunlap addressed her 
complaint to her husband as if they were alone, 
although Elmer sat grinning into his coffee-cup 
very well pleased with the condition he had 
brought about. “He won’t have her to hector 
much longer, thank goodness; she’ll be in a home 
of her own.” 

Mr. Dunlap twirled his neck and buttered a 
fresh piece of bread. “We’ve had about enough 
of this, Susan,” he remarked loftily, and Elmer, 
knowing that his turn would come next, and hav¬ 
ing made a satisfactory breakfast, rasped his 
chair back and swaggered away. 

At the millinery store the announcement of 
Colinette’s coming made even more of a sensation 
than Susan had expected. Helen Pickens was 
not sure whether she was sorry or glad, but Gusta 
Klatz was quite sure that she was glad. The 
three young apprentices, who knew Miss Dun¬ 
lap’s cousin to be half owner of the business but 
had never seen her, were filled with a natural 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 39 

curiosity and some apprehension. They made 
furtive inquiries of those who did know Miss 
Card. Would she come “bossing around the 
store very much?” 

The testimony elicited was so contradictory 
that they were fain to wait and judge for them¬ 
selves. 

“She won’t come right out and scold,” Helen 
Pickens testified, “but if there is something she 
doesn’t like—don’t you know, like a homely hat, 
or stitches showing, or—or—a person she doesn’t 
like, or—maybe something funny about your 
dress, she’ll look at it—sort of stare at it, don’t 
you know—until you feel ready to—to—dear me, 
I don’t know—” 

Helen’s explanation trailed off into silence 
while she held aloft and turned on her fist the 
child’s hat she was finishing. The children’s 
wear, and the few bonnets requiring ribbon ties 
for hopelessly old-fashioned ladies from the 
country, were Helen’s special province; the 
strictly up-to-the-minute creations were evolved 
by Gusta Klatz and by Susan herself during the 
fleeting moments when she was not “out front” 
waiting upon customers. Helen’s picture of the 
absent partner was not reassuring to the anxious 
apprentices, but Gusta Klatz seemed to see the 
shield from an entirely different side. 

“She’s a swell little dresser,” she declared. 






THE GREEN EYED ONE 


40 

“She’s good, too. You needn’t be afraid of Coli- 
nette Gard. She’s awful pretty but she’s good, 
too. Why, I wouldn’t be any more afraid of 
Colinette Gard than I would be of my own dear 
brother Willie when he comes home from over¬ 
seas, bless him! Willie thinks there never was 
anybody like Colinette Gard. He just worships 
her.” 

“Oh, does he?” asked the round-eyed appren¬ 
tice, “Somebody told us here in the workroom one 
day that your brother Willie used to be dead in 
love with Miss Dunlap.” 

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Gusta, and flounced 
into the store—if going jerkily in a very tight 
short skirt could be called flouncing. 

When Helen Pickens carried the news of Coli- 
nette’s coming to her father and mother at dinner¬ 
time they were duly astonished. 

“For the land’s sake!” exclaimed Aunt Rinthy 
Pickens. “I wonder if she’s kindah fizzled out 
in the art business and is cornin’ home to go into 
the shop again.” 

“I can tell you what’s bringin’ her,” declared 
Waldo Pickens with a load of mashed turnip sus¬ 
pended halfway between his plate and his mouth, 
“it’s on account of Susan’s gettin’ married. 
She’s cornin’ to take over the milliner store, of 
course.” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


4i 

“She hasn’t had time to hear about Susan’s 
wadding,” objected Helen. “Susan wasn’t sure 
of it herself until the night before the opening.” 

“But Jeff an’ Susan’s been goin’ together 
longer’n that,” said Aunt Rinthy, “and don’t tell 
me that Gram’ma Gard ain’t that tickled over 
Plummer’s young man takin’ up with Susan that 
she ain’t wrote and bragged about it to Colinette 
long ago.” 

“You bet, Rinthy, you’re in the right of it,” 
agreed Pickens. “Gram’ma Gard makes out she 
don’t care, one way or t’other. So does Luther’s 
wife, but you needn’t tell me! I know by the way 
Luther is all lit up over the matter what the rest 
of ’em think. When they goin’ to pull off the 
weddin’?” 

“I don’t know,” replied Helen grumpily. 

“We don’t know an’ we don’t care,” added Aunt 
Rinthy with a vindictive toss of her head which 
belied her words. 

After Pickens had gone out to his work, mother 
and daughter discussed the news with more free¬ 
dom. 

“That’s what’s bringing her,” said Mrs. Pickens 
with great decision, “she’s goin’ to run the store. 
Susan won’t run that store after she’s married, 
and don’t you think it. Jeff won’t want her to, 
an’ Mrs. Plummer won’t want her to.” 


42 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“Susan told me that Jeff was perfectly willing 
that she should keep on with the business/’ wit¬ 
nessed Helen. 

“But, don’t you see, it’s goin’ to be a different 
matter after Jeff gits his mitt into the money 
drawer ? Gram’ma Gard makes a good thing out 
of Colinette’s share in the business and she’s sharp 
enough not to let the Plummers have it all their 
own way after Susan and Jeff are married.” 

“I suppose that is so,” acquiesced Helen, al¬ 
though she had never thought of the matter in 
that light before. “That is exactly what is bring¬ 
ing Colinette back. You’ve guessed it.” 

“You bet I have,” boasted her mother with one 
of her flat, triumphant smiles. “If your pa had 
as much gumption as he thinks he has, he’d go 
down an’ see Gram’ma Gard and try to buy out 
the business for you.” 

“Too late for that now,” said Helen regretfully. 
“If we had tried that soon enough—before Coli¬ 
nette had made her plans, it might have worked.” 

“But who knew anything about their plans? 
They’re so all-of-a-sudden like. Everything go¬ 
ing along as usual when all at once, pop! Susan 
announces her engagement to Jeff Plummer, just 
like a bolt out of the blue, and before a person 
can think twice, here comes Colinette home to 
take over her half of the business.” 

“They’ve always been like that,” said Helen. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


43 

“All stick together, the Gards and Dunlaps and 
let the Pickenses look out for themselves.” 

“Has Susan said anything about who she is 
calculatin’ to have stand up with her?” asked Mrs. 
Pickens. 

Plelen’s lip curled. “No, she hasn’t said any¬ 
thing about it, and she won’t need to now. Coli- 
nette will stand up with her; Colinette will choose 
the wedding dress and the silver and the minister 
and the place to go on the honeymoon. It will 
be Colinette from now on.” 

“You may be mistaken about that. After this 
Susan will have somebody else to consult. I guess 
Mr. Jefferson Plummer will do some of the plan¬ 
ning from now on.” 

“Pooh!” sneered Helen. “Jefferson Plummer! 
Honest, ma, Jeff Plummer was in love with Coli¬ 
nette Gard from the moment she struck this town 
years ago when she was a little girl. Jeff Plum¬ 
mer will be dough—just dough—in Colinette 
Card’s hands. You see!” 



TV 


Miss Gard had reason to feel flattered at the large 
number of acquaintances gathered at the Red- 
moon railway station on the afternoon of her ar¬ 
rival. She was certainly astonished. She had 
expected her grandmother to be on hand—she 
was sure of a welcome from that quarter—and 
she had counted somewhat on seeing Susan, but 
the entire Pickens family quite took her by sur¬ 
prise. 

Gusta Klatz had left the most dependable ap¬ 
prentice in charge of the store at the last moment 
and cantered three blocks, in a wholly millinerish 
and ladylike manner of course, in order to be on 
time to see the train pull in. The other two ap¬ 
prentices, supposedly on their way to their sup¬ 
pers, had detoured on a route which included the 
station. 

Gertie Calkins was there with “papa’s car” to 
meet Dr. Snyder who had been attending the 
medical convention at Milltown and wasn’t ex¬ 
pected to return for two days, but who, neverthe¬ 
less, “might have been taken suddenly sick, or— 
something.” Lila Merton had come down to see 
her papa off to the convention; Lizzie Smith to 

44 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


45 

meet an expected friend (who failed to arrive) 
and many others, each with some plausible excuse 
to keep them from being classed with the merely 
curious. 

However, the assembly was not uncommon 
enough to cause comment. Redmoon often let 
its supper cool in order to “make the six o’clock.” 
It was to be regretted that the train arrived at 
such an inconvenient hour. 

Colinette dropped her brown traveling bag 
upon the station platform when she lost herself in 
her grandmother’s embrace. 

“Dear lamb!” trembled Grandmother Gard, 
oblivious of the fact that others waited to wel¬ 
come the visitor. “Dear girl, clear from New 
York, and tired to death, I s’pose!” 

But Colinette denied this supposition and backed 
the denial by her appearance. 

Lila, Dr. Merton’s pretty daughter, and Gertie 
Calkins, Dr. Snyder’s pretty financee, faced each 
other for the first time in weeks in their effusive 
welcome to their former schoolmate. Lizzie 
Smith, the dressmaker, managed to reach Coli- 
nette’s hand before any of her remaining relatives 
could do so. She noticed with the interested eye 
of the professional seamstress that, in purchas¬ 
ing her suit, Miss Gard had had the courage to 
pay a good price for something inconspicuous. 

“Natty! That’s the word to describe it, and 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


46 

that’s all there was to it,” reported Miss Smith 
later in describing the suit to her mother and 
business partner. 

The two young millinery apprentices were alive 
to the effectiveness of the small hat with its 
sharply upturned brim and slant of eagle’s feather. 

Susan Dunlap, who had come down with Jeff 
in the Plummer car, absorbed all of these sartorial 
details at a glance. She also noted the fact that 
Colinette kissed no one but her grandmother. 
They two, Susan and Colinette, merely clasped 
hands and gazed into each other’s eyes with an 
inquiring hostility. 

Aunt Rinthy Pickens and Helen, plodding along 
Main Street on the way home, could see the dust 
of the Plummer car as it turned the corner in the 
direction of Grandmother Gard’s house. Aunt 
Rinthy had not been given a chance to launch any 
of the winged arrows of suggestion for which she 
was famous because of Jeff Plummer’s prompt¬ 
ness and importance in gathering the newcomer 
with her baggage and immediate relatives into 
his car and whirling them out of reach. But she 
rehearsed a few on this homeward walk. 

“Her hair is about eight shades darker’n it 
was when she went away,” she mused. “Wonder 
what she put on it. Seems to me if I’d lived in 
New York as long as she has, and had been to 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 47 

Paris besides, I’d a tried to look a little more 
dressed up when I first come home. But I s’pose 
she ain’t had money to buy clothes with. It costs 
a lot just to pay board in the city.” 

“If she had needed money all she would have 
had to do would be to send word to Gram’ma Gard 
for some of her share of the milliner store 
money,” Helen reminded her mother. “You re¬ 
member pa said he didn’t believe Gram’ma Gard 
was using a cent of the milliner money. He 
thinks she’s living on her own interest money and 
saving all of the store money for Colinette.” 

“Well, what’s she home for, then? There ain’t 
a livin’ thing for her to do here, now that Gusta 
Klatz and you are such good help in the store. 
I’ll bet you lose your job even if Gusta don’t. But 
so far as I’m concerned I don’t care if you do. 
You’ve no business to be slaving down in that old 
milliner store anyhow. If your father hadn’t 
been asleep when Mis’ Chedder went out, you’d 
uv been owner of that store. But for you to be 
settin’ in the back room stitchin’ wire frames with 
the apprentices cuts me to the quick! So, as I 
said afore, I hope Colinette has come home to 
take up her old job. And if that ain’t it, what 
has she come home for?” 

“She would have been home before if it hadn’t 
been for the War,” said Helen. “It’s perfectly 


48 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

natural that she should want to see Gram’ma 
Gard.” 

“Maybe she’s thinking of catching a man back 
here. She’s—let’s see-e-e—she must be goin’ on 
twenty-three, ain’t she? Yes, I know she is. 
She ain’t far behind you and Susan. And I 
s’pose young men are pretty scurce back East 
now on account of the War, and pretty shy about 
marryin’ with livin’ as high as it is. I’m goin’ 
to ask her if that’s what she’s back for—just in 
a joke. I’m goin’ to say, 'it’s a good thing Su¬ 
san’s got her young man cinched before you got 
back—’ or something like that.” 

“Oh I wouldn’t do that, ma,” protested Helen, 
“she might get mad.” 

“Well let ’er if she wants to; I don’t care. I 
ain’t in any awe of John Gard’s girl if she has 
been in New York for years. Her father was in 
New York and in Kalamazoo and Kansas, and 
it didn’t do no great shakes for him. And I no¬ 
tice that those who sail out and do wonders in the 
city always come creepin’ back to Redmoon and 
mighty glad to git back.” 

They turned the corner by the old Pettingill 
House and saw the Plummer automobile stand¬ 
ing in front of Mrs. Gard’s door. 

“We must git our car out after supper,” said 
Mrs. Pickens. 

“Oh no, let’s not,” protested Helen. “Pa won’t 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


49 

want to drive. He'll want to go down and pump 
Colinette. He always does pump folks who have 
just come to town.’" 

But in this matter of going out in the car Mrs. 
Pickens had her way. The Pickenses were not 
among those present at Mrs. Gard’s little house 
that evening; just the Dunlap family, Uncle Lu¬ 
ther, Aunt Susan, young Susan, Elmer and Jeff 
Plummer. 

Young Susan wished devoutly that the male 
portion of the company would betake themselves 
to a corner and discuss baseball as was their 
habit. But no, while her mother and grand¬ 
mother talked of turnip greens, the effect of the 
late frosts on the fruit buds, and painting the 
Dunlap back porch, Uncle Luther served as under¬ 
study to the absent Pickens in “pumping Coli¬ 
nette.’’ 

And so Neal Brackley was captain now, and 
still in France; and his mother permanently lo¬ 
cated in the South. Well, well, he wanted to 
know! And Colinette had been in France her¬ 
self, had she? but hadn’t seen either Brackley or 
Willie Klatz. Had she heard about Willie Klatz 
—all strung over with medals for bravery— 
Cross-de-Something-or-other ? How long was 
she calkerlatin’ to stay with her grandmother? 

It was really a welcome interruption when 
Gusta Klatz and her mother came over to talk 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


5o 

about Willie, who might be home now any day. 

During this conversation an idea dawned slowly 
in young Susan’s mind: could it be that Coli- 
nette had returned to Redmoon because Willie 
Klatz was coming back? No, it was not likely 
that dainty Colinette Gard would care about big, 
clumsy Willie Klatz, no matter how many medals 
for bravery he could display. 

She did not like the way Jeff sat and stared at 
her cousin with that look of dazed admiration. 
The sooner she and Jeff were married the better 
it would be for everybody’s happiness. She 
watched her cousin narrowly for any flirtatious 
sign. Back in their schooldays Colinette had 
never been a flirt, but what might not four years 
of experiences have done to change a girl’s dispo¬ 
sition ? 

How graceful she was! Never seemed to 
think about clasping her hands so, or so, that they 
might appear to the best advantage; they seemed 
naturally to fall into the right place. And her 
little feet and silken ankles— 

Susan wished devoutly that Colinette had 
stayed in New York! 

It seemed to Grandmother Gard as well as to 
Susan that the hour for departure had been en¬ 
tirely overlooked by their visitors. Aunt Susan 
Dunlap succeeded at last in dragging her husband 
and Elmer home, yet still young Susan and her 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


5i 

lover stayed on. At last they, too, went, and 
Mrs. Gard and Colinette were left to themselves. 

“Well, what do you think of this affair of 
Susan’s?” demanded Mrs. Gard as soon as the 
door closed behind the last visitors. 

Colinette said nothing for so long a time that 
her grandmother repeated the question. Then, 

“I shall always be glad of any arrangement 
that will add to Susan’s happiness,” Colinette an¬ 
swered slowly. 

“I know that,” said Mrs. Gard, a little impatient 
at Colinette’s platitude. “The question is, will 
marryin’ Jefferson Plummer make Susan happy?’’ 

“She seems to think it will, doesn’t she?” 

“She’s perfectly silly!” declared her grand¬ 
mother, “just plain silly over the matter, and so 
is Luther, and so is Elmer. It’s the first time 
they’ve ever give Susan credit for doin’ a smart 
thing. The gittin’ into the milliner business they 
lay where it belongs—to you. And, of course, 
if it comes right down to facts, they can lay this 
match to you—” 

“To me ?” cried Colinette in consternation. “To 
me, grandmother?” 

“Why, yes. If it hadn’t been for you, Susan 
would never have got into the milliner business; 
and if she hadn’t been in the milliner business, if 
she’d had to go out as a hired girl, she wouldn’t 
had nice, stylish clothes to wear, way she has now. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


52 

I tell you, Colinette, Susan has been dressin’ right 
up to the scratch for the last year or so. You 
certainly did set her foot on a stylish road when 
you got her into that milliner business. If she 
had been a hired girl, with two gingham dresses 
for every day, and one cheap black for best (black 
is allers good for a three-year stretch) do you 
think Mr. Plummer would have passed by Dr. 
Merton’s daughter an’ Helen Pickens an’ took up 
with her? You know as well as I do he 
wouldn’t.” 

“Did—he pass by Lila Merton and Helen ?” 
asked Colinette in an awed sort of whisper. 

“He certainly did. Aunt Rinthy was just set 
on gittin’ him for Helen. She dined him an’ 
wined him, as the sayin’ is, for sure. She 
couldn’t think it possible that our Susan would 
stand any show against Helen. She used to 
come down here an’ say the meanest things about 
Susan’s bein’ a great overgrown—oh, well, you 
know how Aunt Rinthy is when she’s peeved. 
With that ingrowin’ smile of hers she said things 
that would a broke Susan’s heart if she had heard 
’em. Her mother and I never repeated ’em to 
Susan. We kept mum, but of course it was kind 
of a triumph when Susan come out ahead after 
all.” 

“Of course,” agreed Colinette soberly. 

“Aunt Rinthy has been kindah off to the hull of 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


53 

us since she heard how the race come out. She 
just can’t forgive Susan for gittin’ along in the 
world. I expected she and Waldo and Helen 
would be down tonight, but instead of that they 
went off ridin’ in their car. You knew they had 
a car, didn’t you ? It’s a fine one, too; a good deal 
bigger and grander than the Plummer car.” 

“How nice,” murmured Colinette in an absent 
way. “Is it easy to ride in?” 

“Well, as to that, I can’t say. I’ve never been 
asked to ride in it. But I don’t wonder at that, 
because, as I said afore, there’s kind of hard 
feelin’s between the Pickenses and Dunlaps over 
this affair of Susan’s. But, bless you! You 
mustn’t think I care a mite about not bein’ 
asked to ride out with the Pickenses.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” assented Colinette 
dreamily. 

“Yet still I will say that if it was me who had 
the automobile, an’ I overtook an old woman 
stumpin’ off to prayer meetin’ of a Thursday 
night, I’d slow up an’ say 'jump in an’ I’ll give 
you a lift/ ” 

“Of course you Would,” said Colinette again, 
and Mrs. Gard realized that Colinette was feign¬ 
ing an interest she did not feel. 

“And why should she?” reasoned Mrs. Gard. 
“Here I am, runnin’ on about our little town stuff 
and she with her head full of her own doin’s in 


54 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

the city; her own triumphs, and failures, and love 
affairs— 

“How are the Brackleys?” she asked suddenly. 

“Why, I told you—” 

“I know you did, but I mean, how is Neal espe¬ 
cially? You know, I kindah thought you and 
Neal might make a match of it some day when 
you grew up.” 

“Why grandmother!” said Colinette reproach¬ 
fully, “think how Mrs. Brackley would feel if 
such a thing should happen to her beloved Neal— 
to marry a Gard from Redmoon!” 

“But you ain’t a Redmoon girl any more; 
you’re a New Yorker. And you ain’t—” Mrs. 
Gard glanced toward the outside door and 
lowered her voice—“And you’ve kept your word 
and never told anybody that you ain’t my own—” 

“Grandmother, I am your own, forever and 
forever!” Colinette took her grandmother’s 
cheeks between her two little hands. “You are 
my world and my heart’s desire! I don’t need 
anybody to love me but you, and my great trouble 
today is the same great trouble which was mine 
when I first came to live under your roof, and that 
is, that you may come to think me unworthy and— 
stop loving me.” 

Mrs. Gard looked at her sternly. She realized 
her beauty, her youth, her four years of unpro¬ 
tected struggle in a great city—her experiences in 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 55 

France. Her own remissness came to her with 
great force. Colinette had begged her to stay 
with her in New York and she had refused. She 
had been sinfully selfish; had argued herself into 
the belief that her prayers in Redmoon would do 
Colinette as much good as they would in New 
York, and meantime she could keep the boys from 
breaking her currant-bushes and heaving stones 
through the windows of her dear little gray house. 

“Colinette/’ she demanded, “have you done 
what you promised gram’ma you would do—said 
your prayers every night of your life?” 

“I think I have, all save—two nights.” 

“And how did you come to miss them two 
nights ?” 

“It was when I was on my way to France. 
We were four days out—a storm came up—it 
was a small boat—you see, grandmother, I really 
didn’t want to be preserved till morning—I felt 
that it would be a relief to have it over—” 

“Oh—yes—well, I’ve heard that seasickness is 
pretty bad. I guess if you’ve been a good girl all 
except that once you’ll come along all right. Es¬ 
pecially now that you’re back here in Redmoon—” 
“There isn’t much difference between Redmoon 
and New York in the matter of being good, grand¬ 
mother, and my besetting sin is as liable to at¬ 
tack me in the one place as in the other. You 
know what it is-—following that old first motto of 




56 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

mine instead of keeping to yours. Yours, that 
good old rugged motto, 'Honesty is the Best Pol¬ 
icy/ while mine—” 

"I remember well enough,” owned grand¬ 
mother. "But here in Redmoon—” 

"Here in Redmoon it’s going to be more of a 
struggle than it ever was in New York,” declared 
Colinette solemnly. "In New York I worked 
hard; I had no time to think of anything but back¬ 
grounds, chiaroscuro, middle distance, and a 
scheme that would work out well in two colors on 
a magazine cover. In New York one has to stick 
strictly to business to stem the tide of ever-rising 
competition in the painting trade. But here—” 
she came and put two lovely arms about her 
grandmother’s neck, she pressed red lips against 
her grandmother’s lips, "but here, grandmother, 
you must help me and—and save me by keeping on 
loving me no matter how wicked I am.” 




V 


The apprentices caught their first glimpse of 
Colinette in the shop through what might be 
termed a dust storm. Miss Dunlap had arrived 
m a humor strange for her, who was usually 
patient and long-suffering under provocation. 
She arrived in what appeared to be a state of 
nervous tension over the visit of her business 
partner. Necessarily, in the front shop this con¬ 
dition was concealed in deference to customers, 
but in the workroom she whirled about “cleaning 
up/’ driving the scurrying apprentices before her 
like little brown leaves before a high wind. Con¬ 
sequently scissors lost themselves, hat frames, 
upturned and serving as baskets for the trim¬ 
mings which were to adorn them, upset, spilling 
feathers, flowers and buckles broadcast. Surely 
this newly-arrived partner must be a veritable 
tigress, was the conclusion of the cowering girls. 

Then she came; small, sober, unobtrusive to the 
point of extinction. 

Susan introduced her to the three who were 
strangers to her and she shook hands with them 
all. And somehow, after that commonplace cere¬ 
mony, each apprentice felt that she had been 

57 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


58 

singled out by Miss Gard as an especial friend. 
This the ogress? This the person Miss Dunlap 
had tried to make them believe would be critical 
as to the state of the waste-basket and the rug 
and the workshelves? Why, she was just like a 
little apprentice girl herself. Not a bit like the 
big, stormy Sue Dunlap, with her flashing black 
eyes and her way of tearing things up by the 
roots and then leaving them to right themselves. 

And my! she was good to look at. With all 
that bronze-colored hair lying close to her little 
head, and that roseleaf skin, and those shadowy, 
rather heavy-lidded eyes, and that unsmiling red 
mouth. 

Well, who couldn’t be pretty in a hat bought in 
New York? 

But when she took off her hat and put it on 
top of the children’s order shelf, and went and 
curled up in the small chair under the window, 
she was prettier than ever. 

No, it wasn’t the hat; it must be the dress. 

“This is my old place,” she told them. “I 
wonder some of you haven’t appropriated it.” 

Helen Pickens finished with a customer and 
came into the workroom bearing a hat which 
might have been a short length of stove-pipe in 
need of blacking. It was of the dust color favored 
that season, and from its inner depths spouted a 
fountain of “glycerined” ostrich feathers, de- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


59 

signed to be festooned in a certain savage way 
about the rim. 

“Whose hat is that, Helen?” inquired Colinette 
politely. 

“Mrs. Pottle’s.” 

“Oh,” breathed Colinette, “too bad!” 

“Why too bad?” demanded Helen, focusing ac¬ 
cusing glasses upon Colinette. “Mrs. Pottle is 
amply able to pay for it, and she ordered it from 
the pattern hat out in the case.” 

“But—it will be so unbecoming to her.” 

Helen laughed sarcastically. “I’d like to see 
anybody make a hat that would become Mrs. 
Pottle! Skin like a baked potato, hairy wart on 
her chin, and that little bunch of hair all wizened 
into a knot the size of—of—” Helen’s powers 
of description failed her and she finished with a 
twirk of the neck bespeaking absolute disdain for 
Mrs. Pottle’s personal attractions. 

“Let’s try, Ada—it is Ada, isn’t it?” asked Coli¬ 
nette of the round-eyed apprentice, “let us try to 
make a hat which would be becoming to Mrs. 
Pottle.” 

Ada was fluttered and flattered. Helen sniffed. 
She gave the stovepipe to one of the other girls 
to wire and to line its inconsequential rim. 

“And if you should make a hat which might 
become Mrs. Pottle, how would you go to work to 
make her take it?” demanded Helen with scorn. 



6 o 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


Susan came sailing in like a decorated racing 
yacht, ribbons and pennons fluttering behind her. 

“What’s she after?” she inquired as Colinette 
passed her on her way to the front room. 

“She doesn’t approve of Mrs. Pottle’s choice 
of a hat. She is going to help Ada to build a 
better one,” Helen shrugged. 

“Neither do I,” declared Susan. “I thought 
when I saw you trying that wild thing on Mrs. 
Pottle that it would add the last touch to her 
beauty. Colinette could wear wild, hairy things 
like that, but Mrs. Pottle can’t.” 

“But Colinette never does,” murmured Gusta 
Klatz, skilfully drawing a piece of glistening 
black ribbon into a graceful bow and applying it 
flatly on a straw rim where it would do the most 
good. 

Colinette came back with her selected materials 
which she piled in front of the apprehensive Ada. 
It was the first time that Ada, as yet a fresh¬ 
man in this school of headgear, had been allowed 
to try her skill on an entire hat. Her office 
hitherto had been that of wirer and liner. 

It took all the afternoon to complete the experi¬ 
ment, and when it was finished no one in the shop 
approved of it in the least, not even Gusta Klatz, 
who usually thought whatever Colinette did was 
right. 

The hat was of brown hemp, lined with pale 


iTHE GREEN EYED ONE 61 

blue velvet. At the base of the sane crown nestled 
a wreath of conventionalized brown flowers, 
breaking into blue-and-gold in the matter of petals, 
and caught up on the right side by a foaming cas¬ 
cade of brown silk lace which dropped a bit from 
an uneven and softening rim. 

“Light blue on Mrs. Pottle!” jibed Susan. “I 
supposed you would build a black hat.” 

“I remember that Mrs. Pottle loves color,” 
murmured Colinette meekly, “why shouldn’t she 
have it?” 

“Because she is old and homely,” said Helen. 

“But the old and homely love color—and need 
it even more than the young. And they should 
have it—judiciously applied.” 

“You’ll see what Mrs. Pottle will do to that 
hat,” laughed Gusta. 

Susan turned upon her almost fiercely. “Oh, 
if Colinette says so, she will take the brown^hat. 
Everybody does what Colinette tells them to do.” 

But Susan did not really believe that Mrs. 
Pottle would take the brown hat, nor did Gusta, 
nor Ada, although that young person would 
have given a month’s extra time to see her handi¬ 
work triumph. 

“I don’t know whether I made that hat or not,” 
she confided to one of the other girls. 

“Of course you did; she never so much as 
touched a finger to it.” 


62 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“Well, shall I go on with the Pottle order or 
not ?” inquired Helen severely. 

“Of course/' commanded Susan, and Helen 
brought in the savage model—made in the East— 
and began to copy, conscientiously and painfully, 
as she did all her work. 

“You will wait on Mrs. Pottle when she comes 
in, I presume?” asked Susan of Colinette. 

“Let Ada wait on her.” 

“Ridiculous!” snapped Susan. “The appren¬ 
tices don’t wait on the trade.” 

“This once, because'—well, Ada made the 
brown hat, and is, therefore, interested in it; 
aren’t you, Ada? You believe in it, don’t you?” 
She was almost wistful in her inquiry. And 
Ada, knowing that she thoroughly believed in 
Colinette whether she did in the brown hat or 
not, answered that she did. 

“One has to believe in a thing before one can 
impress it on others,” said Colinette. “That, I 
think, is the reason so many ministers fail. 
They stand up and preach what their especial 
denomination requires them to say instead 
of what they really and truly believe them¬ 
selves.” 

“Well, Pve got a photograph of Ada Williams 
preaching that brown hat into Mrs. Pottle,” 
sneered Susan. 

“You’ll come out front with me, won’t you, 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 63 

Miss Gard?” trembled Ada Williams the next 
day when Gusta Klatz stepped back into the 
workroom to announce with a wink and a 
grimace that “Mrs. Pottle had come for her 
order/’ Ada grasped the brown hat with trem¬ 
bling fingers, but Colinette motioned her to put 
it down and take Mrs. Pottle’s original order 
which had just been lined. 

Helen watched this maneuver jealously. The 
symbol of savagery was her sale and her manu¬ 
facture; she distinctly hoped it might—and be¬ 
lieved it would—triumph. 

Another bevy of buyers arrived, and Susan 
went out to wait upon them. Helen sat stitching 
in a rigid silence. The apprentice girls listened, 
but could distinguish nothing of the Pottle case 
amid the confusion of women all talking at once. 

Then the door flew open and Ada Williams 
bounced in, caught up the brown hat and disap¬ 
peared with it into the store. Had Helen been 
familiar with pugilistic reports she would have 
described the situation as the end of the first 
round and she, Helen, hanging on the ropes. 

Ten minutes more, then the triumphant Ada, 
bearing Helen’s handiwork in victory before her 
like an enemy’s helmet captured in battle, swept 
into the workroom. 

“She took the brown!” she announced, and 
twirled the disdained helmet upon the worktable. 


64 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


Helen’s lips tightened. “So Colinette managed 
it after all, did she?” she snapped. 

“Miss Gard had hardly anything to do with 
the sale,” boasted Ada. “She just sat and talked 
while Mrs. Pottle tried on hats. When Mrs. 
Pottle put on this one,” Ada took up the palm 
grove, “Miss Gard looked sort of—of—hurt, you 
know, as if something displeased her. Mrs. Pot¬ 
tle asked her if she liked it, and Miss Gard said 
that it was very stylish, and that that particular 
shade of mud seemed to be very much in favor 
this season.” 

“Did she say that ?” cried Helen. “Did she say 
'mud’ ?” 

“Yes, she did,” laughed Ada, “and then Mrs. 
Pottle took off the hat, turned it round and round 
and upside down, looked into the crown and said, 
‘ ’Tis mud, ain’t it? I wish I’d never ordered it.’ 
Now that was every word that Miss Gard had 
said—so far,” declared Ada. 

“Every word!” sneered Helen, “What other 
word was needed beside that one word MUD!” 
She snatched the hat out of the girl’s hand. 
“That hat is taupe! Not 'mud’!” 

“It’s mud now so far as Mrs. Pottle is con¬ 
cerned,” laughed Ada, with a newly acquired 
importance of manner. 

“Go on, Ada,” urged one of the other girls, 
“then what was said ?” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 65 

“Nothing much. Miss Gard said that, being 
a painter, perhaps she w'as over fond of colors, 
and Mrs. Pottle said she just loved colors, but 
was afraid to wear ’em because she was so mot¬ 
tled, or tanned, or something. And then Miss 
Gard said that she needed pretty, pure colors to 
offset that mottledness. She didn’t say, ‘Oh no, 
Mrs. Pottle, you’re not mottled or tanned/ or 
anything like that; she just let it stand that she 
was a mottled Pottle and let it go at that, but 
that the mottledness could be softened by the 
right combination of colors. Then she turned to 
me and said, ‘Ada, dear, bring that brown hat 
that I saw in the workroom this morning—the 
one with the pretty blue lining under the rim, 
and that softening fall of brown lace’—and, 
honest to goodness, that’s about all she did say, 
except that on account of her red hair she had 
to be very careful what she wore in hats. She 
just sat—sober, like that, you know, while Mrs. 
Pottle put on the brown hat. And, honest, girls, 
if I do say it that shouldn’t seeing that I designed 
it— 3 ” 

A whoop of derision arose. 

“Well, anyway, I made it after her design— 
well—honest to goodness! I never saw anything 
melt into and rub out mottledness as that brown 
and blue did. The brown, somehow, being sort 
of the same shade as Mrs. Pottle, seemed to draw 


66 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


your attention away from her brown to its own; 
and the blue lining seemed to—to—sort of—” 

“Don’t strain yourself, Ada,” advised Helen 
acidly, as the others came swarming back from 
the front, Gusta squealing with laughter at the 
triumph of the brown hat, Susan not so well 
pleased, but reiterating “I told you so,” and 
Colinette demurely reaching for her own hat and 
saying that she must go now, that Grandmother 
Gard was planning to have bacon and greens for 
supper and she had promised to look over the 
spinach. 

But even after she was gone the irritability 
and absent-mindedness which had taken posses¬ 
sion of the mistress of the establishment re¬ 
mained. The following day it was enhanced by 
a call from Gertie Calkins who came in to talk 
about weddings and veils and rings. All this, 
of course, was very confidential, the interview 
taking place in the front shop behind the lace 
curtains, and with the workroom door securely 
closed. 

“We have almost decided,” said Gertie, “on 
the thirtieth of June. What is your date?” 

Susan could not reveal this secret as the date 
of her own wedding had not as yet been decided 
upon. She resolved, then and there, that it 
should be so decided at once. She blamed herself 
that it had been postponed so long. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


67 

She sent one of the girls to the warehouse with 
a note for Jeff Plummer asking him to call at the 
store that day as soon as possible after six o’clock. 

The apprentice was gone a long time—too long, 
Susan decided, and reproved her sharply on her 
return. 

“I couldn’t help being gone a long time,” pouted 
the apprentice, “I had to run all over town before 
I found him. He wasn’t in the elevator, nor in 
the office. They said he had gone home. I 
thought, Miss Dunlap, that you wanted him to 
get your note, so I went over to Plummer’s house 
with it—” 

“Well?” broke in Susan impatiently. 

“—and he wasn’t there—” 

“Well?” 

“His mother said she guessed he was over to 
your house; that he had started off in that direc¬ 
tion. So I started for your house—” 

“Well?” 

“And when I went by that house, just this 
side of the old Pettingill place I saw the door 
open and him standing in the door, so I—” 

“That will do. Go back to your work; Pm 
much obliged.” 

Susan stopped, dragged a box of hat-frames 
from under the counter where they belonged and 
carried them around to the other side where they 
did not belong, and where they had never been 



68 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

before. She opened the money drawer, counted 
the change without sensing the amount, shut it 
again, sat down at the desk, got up immediately 
and frowned heavily at a woman who came smil¬ 
ing in to select a hat for her little daughter. 

How could she wait until six o’clock! How 
could she pass the dragging hours away! Listen 
to Gusta’s placid conversation about Saturday’s 
orders, and the apprentices tittering among them¬ 
selves, and Helen Pickens inquiring who had seen 
the buckram roll, and all the round of business 
which was so interesting when one was happy, 
but so maddening when one was in this state! 

She called the apprentice to her in the front 
shop and put the question to her which she had 
been too angry to put before: Had she, at last, 
given Mr. Plummer the note? And what had 
he done with it? 

“Stuffed it into his pocket without reading it.” 
Susan longed to rise like Cleopatra and strike 
down the bearer of such news! 

And that was the pitiful part of the affair; 
this grinning little apprentice knew the horrible 
truth of her jealousy, the other two knew it, 
Helen Pickens and Gusta Klatz and Colinette her¬ 
self, and that was worse than all the others put to¬ 
gether—Colinette, whom Susan loved as she had 
never loved anybody else except Jeff and her 
mother! That all her poor triumph and happi- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 69 

ness should be turned to mockery by one so dear, 
was matter for tears sure enough! 

Six o’clock, and Main Street deserted. Had 
he read the note at all ? Had he read and ignored 
it ? Susan’s anger was high, but she overruled it. 
Whatever happened, she must not offend Jeff. 
She held his fealty by too slender a thread for 
that. And to break with him now, after the 
triumph of her conquest, would be a humiliation 
too great to be borne. 

Once more she realized the slavery of her 
position. To be always dissembling—trimming; 
to fawn when she felt like raging! Slavery— 
that’s what it was, and nothing less. 

But her mother had said that all women suf¬ 
fered it; that it was woman’s lot and— 

Oh, Jeff at last! 


VI 

One might have thought it was Jeff who had 
cause to be displeased. He appeared sullen, so 
much so in fact that Susan found it hard to 
broach the subject which she wished to discuss. 
It was not easy to ask a young man to agree to 
an early marriage date when that young man 
stood with his back against the counter scowling 
and inquiring “what she wanted” in a most ag¬ 
gressive manner. 

“Gertie and the doctor have decided on the 
date of their wedding.” 

“Have they?” 

“Yes, Jeff, and I thought perhaps—” 

“Well?” 

“That we had better set our date. We don’t 
want to be too far behind them, do we?” 

“I don’t see why their wedding need cut any 
ice with us.” 

“But—Gertie was in today and she wanted to 
know what we had decided on, and I felt cut up 
because I couldn’t tell her.” 

“I don’t think I’d let Gert Calkins influence me 
one way or the other.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Well, then, what you kickin’ about?” 

70 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 71 

Susan was making a mighty effort for control. 
“Jeff, perhaps you would rather never be mar¬ 
ried to me at all.” Susan’s cheeks were blazing, 
her lips trembling. 

“Awh, come on, Sue, let’s not have any of 
these tantrums. Don’t turn on the waterworks; 
’t’ain’t becoming to your style of beauty. What’s 
the use of hanging on to Gert Calkin’s skirts? 
Let her get married when she pleases and let us 
do the same.” 

“All right, then; when do you please? I’d like 
to know so as to make my plans. It is supposed 
to be the bride’s privilege to set the wedding day, 
but in this case it seems to be reversed. I—I 
love you, Jeff, and I want to please you, and 
I shall always try to please you, but—I think I 
have a right to know what to plan on.” 

“Well, what’s the use of our tying up with 
a wedding and all the fixings when there is a 
whole summer of good times ahead? What’s 
the matter with Christmas?” 

An old woman with a bunchy bundle of the 
familiar type, broad at base, tapering to a twisted 
point which served as a handle, appeared sud¬ 
denly on the doorstep. 

“All right, Jeff. Good night.” 

Jeff shot out like a homing pigeon loosed for 
flight, and Gusta, coming on the heels of the old 
woman, was left to attend her while Susan 


72 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

plunged into the back room and into a storm of 
tears. 

It was thus that Gusta found her some ten 
minutes later when the woman with the bonnet 
had been satisfied and sent on her way. 

“Sue dear! Sue dear!” mourned the sym¬ 
pathetic Gusta, “what is the matter? Been hav¬ 
ing another fuss with him? Now hush up! 
Hush up! Helen will be here in a minute, and 
you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of 
seeing you this way. You better just skip out 
the back door and run home. I’ll tell Helen you 
had a headache. Come now, brush up. They 
say that’s always the way with sweethearts—al¬ 
ways a fight of some kind on. I’m glad I haven’t 
any.” 

“Gusta, he’s in love with Colinette!” 

“How silly! Colinette wbuldn’t look at him.” 

“All the worse.” 

“Well, that’s the way with me, I guess. All 
but Willie—” 

Susan shut her lips hard and went and got her 
hat and veil. When Gusta began on the subject 
of her brother Willie her desirability as a com¬ 
forter was at an end. At the back door Susan 
paused to ask desperately, “Gusta, would you 
have believed it of Colinette?” 

“What?” asked Gusta. “Believe what? I 
don’t see that Colinette has done anything.” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


73 

“He was there at that old studio with her this 
afternoon. I wish that thing would burn up!” 

“Oh, Susan, that’s awful mean of you. She 
loves that studio. She’s hauled out that picture 
of the Pickenses’ back yard that she started so 
many years ago. She says she is going to make 
a wonderful picture of that. She isn’t thinking 
of Jeff Plummer, not for one minute; she’s think¬ 
ing how the snow blew off Pickenses’ chicken 
house in straight lines, and how ghostly the barn 
loomed, and the trees, and all.” 

“She had no business to come here at all!” 

“My goodness. Sue, you can’t expect every¬ 
body to leave town for fear Jeff will get off the 
track. I wouldn’t give much for a fellah who 
had to wear blinders for fear he’d see some other 
girl that he liked better than me—” 

Susan flung herself away and banged the back 
door after her. 

“All singing the same story!” she stormed. 
“And the answer is that Jeff Plummer doesn’t 
care a fig for me, and doesn’t care who knows it! 
I see plainly enough how it is going to turn out; 
I shall lose him, and it will be her fault! We 
were going on smoothly enough before she came 
home. He was even urging me to set an early 
date for our wadding. Said it couldn’t happen 
any too quick to suit him. Now he says 'Christ¬ 
mas,’ and 'what’s the use of tying ourselves up 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


74 

with weddings and all that fuss when there is 
a whole summer of fun ahead of us?’ Is that 
the way for a man in love to feel? What does 
he mean by 'a whole summer of fun ahead’ un¬ 
less he means flirting with her? That’s what 
she came for! I hate her! 

“Oh, what am I saying! What am I think¬ 
ing! Little Colinette! More than a sister al¬ 
ways ! What would Gram’ma Gard think of me 
if she could look into my head—or heart, or 
wherever it is that meanness and jealousy live! 
Oh what a horrid thing love is—I mean the love 
between a man and a woman—the marrying 
love! You must forget your mother and your 
grandmother and your cousin; you must forget 
all the kindnesses of old times and stand guard 
over your lover like an old pussycat over her 
young—or lose him! Of course all that comes 
to an end after you are married— But does it?” 

Susan had wept freely so far on her way home, 
wiping her eyes and nose and polishing her cheeks 
as she had need. She had been crossing the 
Baptist lot behind the church, but now she had 
reached the sidewalk on the back street and was 
in danger of being seen. She gave her flushed 
face a final wipe. It had done her good—this 
chance to let herself go for a brief space. 

At home her mother cast surreptitious glances 
at her and tried to divert the attention of her 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 75 

husband and stepson from her daughter’s swol¬ 
len, tellable features. After supper she followed 
Susan upstairs to her own room and inquired ap¬ 
prehensively as to the cause of her unhappiness. 

“Of course I’m troubled, ma, and unhappy. 
I always shall be now I suppose. Didn’t you 
say that an engaged girl or a married woman 
had little else to expect? You said I’d got to 
learn to expect such things and to overlook ’em, 
didn’t you? Well, I’m trying to learn to do what 
you say is best, and I wish you wouldn’t pester 
me with questions. I have lots to stand, but I’m 
going to brace up and stand it if it kills me!” 

Mrs. Dunlap sighed and went away down 
stairs. None knew better than did she how 
poorly equipped Susan was to “stand things,” a 
term which in the elder Susan’s mind meant just 
a stoical silence and a bending to the storm 
whether of jealousy, abuse, or overwork. 

The weeks which followed tested Susan’s pow¬ 
ers to the utmost. Colinette was—or pretended 
to be—absorbed in that snow picture of the back 
yard. At any time of day she was to be found 
standing before her big easel, an enormous palette 
hanging from one little pink thumb, daubing um¬ 
ber shadows under the sharp edge of the bank 
where the snow drifted over, or experimenting 
with a wintry sky and a struggling sun seen 
through feathery, flying snow. 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


76 

She was almost sure to have a caller or two, 
and sometimes more, perched about in the spare 
chairs; callers who asked insane questions, or 
retailed Redmoon gossip to indifferent ears. 

Jeff Plummer spent more hours in the studio 
than he realized. It angered him to find so many 
others roosting about in the way; Lila Merton; 
Gertie Calkins, talking always about the doctor 
and her fast-approaching marriage and negotiat¬ 
ing with Colinette to be her bridesmaid; Coli- 
nette’s grandmother, piecing quilt blocks and 
making sarcastic remarks about “putterin’ with 
such useless work” as that which Colinette was 
so absorbed in. If she was goin’ to paint a pic¬ 
ture why didn’t she go out into the pasture where 
it was all so green and nice now, pick out a couple 
of Uncle Waldo’s good fat Jerseys standin’ knee 
deep in the brook, and paint them. Something 
with some git up an’ git! That snow, flyin’ off 
the roof of Waldo’s henhouse made her shiver 
even here in summer. And every day, instead 
of the weather breakin’ and clearin’ a little, the 
storm seemed to git worse. 

“You’ll have that henhouse snowed under and 
lost entirely if you keep on,” she admonished. 

Sometimes different members of the Pickens 
family dropped in on their way to or from work. 
Jeff could stand any of these except Aunt Rinthy 
herself. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


77 

“Well,” she would ejaculate, appearing sud¬ 
denly in the doorway before a fellow had a 
chance to make himself scarce, “what you doin’, 
hangin’ round here again? You was here yester¬ 
day when I come down. You takin’ paintin’ 
lessons?” Then she would walk over behind 
Colinette and inspect her work. 

“My land! Ain’t you got that thing done yet ? 
If it takes such a long time to paint the barn 
and the henhouse, how long would it take to paint 
the front of the place, I’d like to know? I wish 
you’d a started in with the front instead of the 
back, then maybe we’d bought it an’ had it framed 
for the parlor. But, mercy! I wouldn’t have 
such a dreary performance as that hangin’ before 
my face an’ eyes. I do hate snow. Why, that’s 
worse’n it was yesterday. Bur-r-r-r! the way 
that snow slithers off the edge of that bank there 
puts me in mind of the winter the turkeys all 
died on us. Why don’t you paint the barbed 
wire in on them fence posts? Yes, but there is 
wire, ain’t they? And you know it, an’ I know 
there’s wire. It makes it look as if Waldo was 
a pretty shiftless farmer to have a row of fence 
posts stickin’ up with no wire on ’em. But, 
honest, I’ve seen the snow swizzle off that barn 
roof just exactly like that. But it’s far from 
bein’ pleasant to look at, and I can’t im -agine 
what a body would paint it for!” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


78 

When she had succeeded in clearing the studio 
and getting Colinette alone, Mrs. Pickens would 
unroll her crochet (she scorned Grandmother 
Gard’s patchwork as hopelessly out of date) set¬ 
tle her scant black skirt, brushed an imaginary 
speck of dust from the sleeve of her freshly 
ironed white waist, and begin the afternoon’s 
program: 

Did Colinette think Gram’ma Gard had failed 
any since she had been away? Well, she had, 
just the same. There was a big difference in the 
way she got around nowadays and the way she 
used to git round. But, of course, it was to be 
expected; gram’ma was gittin’ along now. 

Had Colinette heard that Jeff and Susan had 
postponed gettin’ married till in the winter some¬ 
time? Seemed awful funny why they had done 
that. They had talked one while of steppin’ off 
the same day that Gertie Calkins and young Dr. 
Snyder did. Now to put it off till winter— 

Of course it was Jeff’s doin’s—puttin’ it off. 
He knew he could pick Susan up any old time. 
Susan had been tickled to death to ketch him, 
and all the family had been tickled to death at 
the match. It wasn’t such a great ketch either; 
Helen Pickens wouldn’t wipe her old shoes on 
Jeff Plummer. There was a time, after he quit 
hangin’ round Gertie Calkins that he had started 
in to rush Helen. Yes-s-s! Helen could a had 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


79 

him hands down if she’d wanted him. But Helen 
was altogether too partic’lar. Sometimes Helen’s 
mother thought that Helen never would marry; 
she was so partic’lar. 

But Susan Dunlap had been pretty much set 
up because she had captured Jeff Plummer. But 
she wasn’t half so much puffed up over the affair 
as Luther was. My land! One would think it 
was Luther’s own daughter instead of just a step¬ 
daughter that had caught Marcus Plummer’s son. 
The hull family was set up over it, only Gram’ma 
Gard tried to make believe she didn’t think much 
of the match. But that was all put on. 

One thing sure, Susan Dunlap would never 
have caught him if she hadn’t been proprietor 
of a payin’ business and slung a good deal of 
style. Because she wa’n’t anything for looks— 
so big an’ black an’ blowsy, like all the Gards-—or 
—er—most of ’em, unless they had red hair or— 
something. 

Had she ever heard anything more from her 
relatives on her mother’s side? 

Here an old temptation would assail Colinette 
to gratify the Pickens appetite for uncomplimen¬ 
tary details regarding her mother’s people, but 
she overcame it. 

No, she had never heard anything more from 
them. They had evidently forgotten her en¬ 
tirely, if any were still living. 



80 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“Well, out of eleven aunts—that’s what you 
told when you first came to live with Gram’ma 
Gard, wasn’t it—that you had eleven aunts and 
all red headed? Well, the whole ’leven couldn’t 
be dead, surely.” 

On the first of June the firemen gave their 
annual ball, and everybody in Redmoon who was 
anybody attended whether they danced or not. 
Not Grandmother Gard; she did not believe in 
dancing, but almost everybody else. Aunt Rin- 
thy Pickens, in a dark blue satin, sat beside Mrs. 
Smith the dressmaker and watched their respec¬ 
tive daughters, both in pale-colored crepe, Lizzie’s 
lavender, Helen’s gray with silver trimming; 
watched jealously and not without reason, if the 
truth be told, the young men crowding for Coli- 
nette’s favors. 

Colinette, in a scant little dress of deep, sea 
green clinging material, girdled with make-believe 
emeralds, danced with grace and abandon. The 
watching women noted, and commented on the 
fact that Jeff Plummer danced with her as often 
as he could capture her, and followed her with 
his eyes when she was dancing with some one 
else. They also made comments about Susan 
Dunlap, who did not dance, but sat with the older 
women, sullen and unhappy-looking. 

“Seems to me,” whispered Aunt Rinthy Pickens 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 81 

to the dressmaker, “if I had such a good dancer 
as Jeff Plummer for a beau, I’d learn to dance 
myself.” 

“Just what I was thinking,” responded Mrs. 
Smith. She bent her gray little face close to 
Mrs. Pickens and spoke without moving her lips. 
“Seems to me she dances well for a girl brought 
up a strict Methodist. There ain’t much to that 
dress, is there? But what there is of it is very 
effective. It’s just a green chemise—that’s all it 
is—but that girdle gives the whole thing tone. 
But suppose I should try to get such dancing 
frocks on to Redmoon girls, do you think they’d 
wear ’em ? No mam!” 

“I don’t care for it myself,” replied Aunt Rin- 
thy, and sought out her own daughter—resting 
for the moment—with her flutings of white lace, 
drapings of gray, silver-beaded crepe, and stiff 
little rosettes of gray ribbon. “I tell my sister- 
in-law—Brother Luther’s wife, you know—that 
if I was in her place, I’d pull off Susan’s weddin’ 
as soon as the Lord would let me. Young men 
nowdays are pretty shifty, and a new face—you 
know)—” 

Mrs. Smith nodded vigorously. “Yes-s-s- in¬ 
deed! And Sue Dunlap isn’t a girl to pick up 
a match any old time. She’s a tasty dresser, but 
sort of—of large and ungainly, and—well, you 
know—sort of coarse and high-colored. She 


82 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


isn’t a man’s girl by any means. Now that Gard 
girl—she’s a man’s girl if ever there was one. 
She’ll have beaux wherever she is.” 

Mrs. Pickens twirked her head and smiled her 
flat smile. 

“Don’t understand myself what they find to 
admire in her—red headed and undersized—but, 
as you say, the boys all seem to take to her.” 

Mrs. Pickens went home firmly convinced that 
she had discovered the reason of Colinette’s return 
to Redmoon. Life had gone hard with her out 
in the world earning her own living, and she 
had returned with the deliberate purpose of oust¬ 
ing Susan Dunlap and taking the very desirable 
position of daughter-in-law to the Plummers her¬ 
self. 


VII 


The day after the dance Susan met her lover 
on the street and they quarreled fiercely. After¬ 
wards she humbled herself in the dust in a futile 
effort to regain her lost footing in his regard. 
She left the store in the middle of the afternoon 
unable to endure the covert glances, sympathetic 
and otherwise, of the shop girls, and the com¬ 
ments of Lizzie Smith, Gertie Calkins and Lila 
Merton Who came in to “talk over the dance.” 
Her head ached, her eyes saw nothing save a 
slim figure flying lightly in the arms of entranced 
young men. She no longer fought against her 
hatred for Colinette—hatred, that’s what it 
amounted to—hatred, and a terrifying surprise; 
the surprise of a child who has been unjustly 
punished by the mother it loves and trusts. 
Colinette, who had brought her all the good luck 
she had ever known, had now struck a blow at 
her happiness which would hurt forever. In all 
the years to come, whether she married Jeff Plum¬ 
mer or not, she should never feel toward Colinette 
any of the old affection. Colinette had “cut her 
out,” had (Susan was convinced of it since last 

night) traveled halfway across the country for 

83 



84 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

the purpose of taking her sweetheart away from 
her. Colinette could have many sweethearts, she 
—Susan—but one, and wished for no more. 

Of course, there had been Willie Klatz, but 
Willie Klatz had never counted with Susan. 

Her mother looked up wanly when Susan en¬ 
tered the house. She had not been present at the 
dance, but Elmer had, and had repeated the flying 
gossip to both her and his father. 

Susan passed through the sitting room into the 
kitchen and sat down by the west window. The 
sunlight lay pleasantly across the quiet garden, 
and the row of gooseberry bushes which formed 
the boundary between the Dunlap and Klatz lots. 
It struck a corner of the Klatz side porch where 
Mrs. Klatz was shelling peas for supper. She 
wore a contented smile. Anyone could see, even 
at that distance, that she was happy—was satis¬ 
fied with things as they were. Her husband was 
true and loving, her girl industrious and helpful, 
her boy coming safe home from the War soon 
loaded with medals for bravery and with a lieu¬ 
tenant’s straps on his sleeve—why shouldn’t Mrs. 
Klatz be happy! The sparrows twittering above 
her head were happy; the cat with tiger bars, 
stepping so stealthily out towards the Klatz wood¬ 
shed, was happy and important, as a well fed 
mother cat always is important. Everybody and 


,THE GREEN EYED ONE 85 

everything happy except poor Susan Dunlap. 
She alone was forlorn, forsaken, desperate. 

Her mother came into the kitchen. “What’s 
the matter, Susan?” 

As usual Susan began to weep, telling her 
mother in broken sentences what her mother al¬ 
ready knew. 

“Your father’s half a mind to have it out with 
Colinette,” Mrs. Dunlap whimpered. “He says 
it’s ridiculous that John Gard’s girl has come 
here and upset everything. He’s a good mind 
to pitch into her about it.” 

“Why Ma Dunlap, don’t let him do such a 
thing! Don’t you dare let him do such a thing! 
Do you know what would happen? Colinette 
would look up at him with that impudent droop 
of the eyelids and ask him coolly what she had 
done? And then what would he say? Why, 
you danced with Jeff Plummer at the firemen’s 
ball.’ ‘Well, is there any law against that? 
Didn’t I go to the ball to dance with folks?’ 
‘But he hangs round your studio ?’ ‘Well, doesn’t 
Elmer and Aunt Rinthy Pickens and Gram’ma 
Gard hang round the studio?” 

“And then she’d say something ridiculous that 
would make him feel like thirty cents—oh no, 
ma, you can’t fight love battles as you’d fight the 
Germans with gunpowder and hard steel. It’s 



86 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

like fighting ghosts; you hit out, and your hand 
goes right through your enemy, and the by¬ 
standers laugh. 

“Oh ma, I wish you’d let me die when I was 
a baby! If I ever was married and had a girl 
baby I’d—why, I believe I’d drown it! A girl 
never can be happy any way you fix it.” 

“Don’t you think Colinette is happy?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I hope she isn’t. I hate 
her!” 

“Oh, Susan, that’s awful wicked,” wailed her 
mother. 

“I know it, but it’s the truth just the same. 
And I shall always hate her now, no matter what 
happens; no matter what she should do—now—to 
be nice to me, I can never like her again! It’s 
awful, ma; it’s like hating you or gram’ma! It’s 
awful! It’s driving me crazy! If it was 
something I could pitch into her about—have it 
out—but as I said before, it’s like fighting ghosts.” 

“Yes, it is,” agreed her mother, her lips pucker¬ 
ing in sympathy. 

“And to have Lila Merton grinning and hint¬ 
ing, and Helen Pickens hinting and grinning, 
and telling what her mother said to Lizzie Smith’s 
mother, and what Lizzie Smith’s mother said to 
her! And Gertie Calkins the worst of the lot— 
planning about her wedding and bragging about 
'the doctor’— Oh, what shall I do! What shall 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


87 

I do! I want to be happy! I want to be let 
alone to go on liking Jeff and Jeff liking me, and 
folks won’t let me!” Susan dropped her head 
upon her arms, folded on the kitchen table, and 
wept aloud. 

Her mother tried to quiet her. Someone was 
coming in at the front door, but Susan was be¬ 
yond caring who came, or who saw her misery 
and humiliation. 

It was Mrs. Gard who came straight through 
to the kitchen and into that emotional whirlpool. 

Although Susan had forbidden her mother to 
allow her stepfather to approach Colinette, yet 
when Mrs. Dunlap broke forth with reproaches 
to Mrs. Gard, Susan let her go on. It was high 
time something was done, for she could not en¬ 
dure this jealous misery much longer. 

The elder Susan set forth the younger’s case 
against Colinette with a bitter completeness born 
of young Susan’s suffering. 

“I don’t see, after all, what Colinette’s done, 
or what she can do,” Mrs. Gard broke into the 
storm of complaint to protest. “As near as I 
can understand, all Colinette’s done is to look too 
pretty and dance too well. She ain’t never gone 
off alone with Jeff Plummer, or kept company 
with him in the parlor, or took presents off him, 
now has she? No. Well, what in the world do 
you want her to do; singe the hair off her head, 


88 


'THE GREEN EYED ONE 

or gash her pink cheeks, or gouge out her eyes 
or—whatever ?” 

“There, ma,” cried Susan, lifting a face of 
anger and suffering, “I told you you’d get no 
satisfaction from gram’ma, or Colinette, or any¬ 
body! Now I guess you’ll believe me. Fighting 
ghosts—that’s what you’re doing, and you might 
as well give up! I wish I were dead and buried, 
and that’s all there is to it! Now don’t either 
one of you say another word, for I won’t listen!” 

Her grandmother drew her chair close to 
Susan. “See here, Susan,” she began, laying a 
warm firm hand over her granddaughter’s, “I’m 
just as sorry over this business as you or your 
mother. I can’t understand it any more’n you 
can. She just worships you; I know that, and 
what makes her act as she does I don’t see. But 
I want to say this: I never knowed her to go 
against my wishes after she fully realized what 
my wishes were, and I’m goin’ to have a good 
talk with her an’ see what I can do— Now, now, 
you needn’t say a word,” for Susan had begun a 
noisy objection, “I’m goin’ to do it! I will even 
send her away, and you know that would almost 
break my heart! Because I’m—why, I’m aw¬ 
fully bound up in her. But now mark me, Susan 
r—and this is the truth—I think more of you than 
I do of her, and you know it.” 

Susan glanced at her mother and her mother 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 89 

at Susan, and both smiled wintery, unbelieving 
smiles which nettled the grandmother more than 
an open accusation would have done. 

“You don’t believe that, I s’pose ?” She paused 
aggressively but both Susans remained silent, and 
Mrs. Gard proceeded: 

“As you say, we’re fightin’ ghosts; something 
—what’s that big word?—intangible—that’s it. 
If Colinette had stole your breastpin, or wrote a 
love letter to your beau, or gone off ridin’ with 
him into the country, why, it would be easy 
enough to git at her and to punish her. But she 
ain’t done nothin’ of the kind, which makes it 
pretty hard to—what’s that word Mrs. Smith 
used that time when Colinette got ahead of her 
in buyin’ out the milliner store?” 

“Cope,” Susan furnished with a hysterical 
giggle. 

“Yes, cope, that’s it. She said Colinette was 
hard to cope with, and I guess she’s right, but 
I’m goin’ to try it a hack, Susan. I’m goin’ to 
see what I can do to patch up this muddle. She 
ain’t no business cuttin’ in on your love affair 
and makin’ you unhappy, I don’t care what she 
is nor who she is. And you mustn’t for one 
minute think I take her part in this affair—not 
if she’s guilty—” 

“There you go!” cried Susan, “she won’t own 
to being guilty—why, gram’ma, before you talk 



go 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


with Colinette ten minutes you will think her the 
most abused little girl in Redmoon. She will say 
she never thought of Jeff Plummer; that she 
doesn’t care a whistle for him. And that’s the 
pity of it, she probably doesn’t. That’s the cruel 
part of it, because I do care for him. I’d go 
through fire and water for him. IVe wanted 
him ever since we went to school together, and 
then, just when we got engaged, and Jeff had 
said he wanted to be married as soon as possible 
—couldn’t be too soon for him, those were his 
very words—then comes— Oh, well, what’s the 
use of going over it all again!” 

“Ain’t no use,” agreed Mrs. Gard, “we all 
understand what is to pay. I’m goin’ to have 
a heart to heart talk with her and see where she 
stands anyway.” 

“Will you tell me what she says, gram’ma?” 
asked Susan wistfully. 

“I don’t know anything to hinder,” said Mrs. 
Gard. “Meanwhile, Susan, do you brace up an’ 
go along and tend to your milliner business as if 
nothing had happened. Don’t let folks see how 
bad you feel. Don’t let your beau ketch a glimpse 
of your feelin’s. A man never likes a woman 
any better for her blubberin’ over him. If you 
could bring yourself to step out with some other 
fellah for a while it might bring him to terms.” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


9i 

“Other fellows are so numerous,” sneered 
Susan, “just lying in wait for girls like me! 
That’s the way it is nowdays; every girl wants 
a lover, and about one in ten gets one. The 
other nine can sit around and grin and make 
believe they prefer being old maids. It was dif¬ 
ferent in your day, gram’ma; then there were 
boys enough to go round.” 

Mrs. Gard sat in deep thought a moment, then 
said slowly, “Even in my day, Susan, there was 
girls who didn’t git the man they wanted. They 
made shift with somebody they would rather not 
have had. But they kept still about it, and made 
the best of it. And I’ll say right here, that some 
of ’em in after years was mighty glad they didn’t 
git the one they thought they loved to distraction. 
They found out that the man the Lord seen fit 
to give ’em was a good sight better choice than 
the one they in their ignorance would have picked 
for themselves. 

“This failin’ in love is one of the queerest 
affairs we have to contend with—or to 'cope 
with,’ as Mrs. Smith would say. A girl in love 
don’t know no more why she is in love than a 
man knows why he is in love. I sometimes think 
there’s too much stress put on what is called love. 

“Now you think you’re dead in love with Jeff 
Plummer: Why are you? Is it because he’s 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


92 

good or kind or industrious?” Mrs. Gard did 
not wait for her granddaughter to answer this 
question; she answered it herself: 

“No, it’s because he makes a great show on the 
baseball field; because his back is straight and 
his legs quick and graceful. 

“And what does he see in you to like? Does 
he like you because you are good to your ma 
and gram’ma, and because you ain’t afraid of 
work? No, he likes you because your brown 
dress is becomin’, and your hat is pretty, and 
you know how to fix your hair. 

“ ’Course, after you’re married and time gits 
in its work, his legs will git crooked and spindly 
and his back will begin to bend; your brown dress 
will wear out, your hair will thin, and all the 
things that you married him for, and all the 
things that he married you for, will fade out of 
existence. 

“But—an’ this is the answer to the hull ques¬ 
tion—if he has got good points, and if you have 
good points, they’ll shine out in times of trouble, 
and then you’ll really begin to love each other 
in spite of crooked backs and thin hair. That 
old, middle-aged feelin’ that you just can’t git 
along without each other—that’s what I call 
Love! 

“That kind of love is blind, blind as a week-old 
kitten. It don’t see wrinkled skin and stoopin’ 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 93 

shoulders. When that comes to take the place 
of the other, then you can make up your mind 
that you’re really in love.” 

Susan wiped her eyes, got up and went to the 
little kitchen glass to survey the havoc done to 
her complexion. She made futile little dabs at 
her eyes and cheeks; she wiped her inflamed nose 
and then, overcome again by a wave of self pity, 
wept afresh and found herself right back at the 
beginning. 

“I wish I could go right away from here,” she 
moaned. “I’m no good at making believe I’m 
happy when I’m just dying of unhappiness! I 
never could do it and I can’t help it. And 
just think what pa will say, and Elmer, and all 
the rest! If you could have heard what I had 
to stand this morning in the shop. First Gertie 
Calkins: ‘Shall you wear a veil, Sue? And 
shall you make it of lace or of gauze?’ And 
there I was just fresh from a horrid quarrel with 
Jeff, he telling me that if I didn’t like this or 
that, he couldn’t help it; and that if I expected 
to keep him in one of my bandboxes I’d guessed 
wrong; and why hadn’t I learned to dance, then, 
instead of being too lazy to learn—oh, I could 
have killed him!” 

“Tch-tch!” sighed Mrs. Dunlap, and wiped her 
own eves. 

Grandmother Gard shook her head too. “No, 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


94 

you can’t really call that true love,” she admitted. 

Susan at once sprung to the justification of 
her case: “Yes, it is true love, too! It’s just 
the kind that gets to be that other kind after you 
are married. If a girl isn’t ever jealous of a 
man, why then she doesn’t love him very much.” 

Mrs. Gard did not argue the point. She sat 
still turning the matter over in her own mind. 

“You said a little while ago that you didn’t 
think Colinette cared a rap for young Plummer; 
if she don’t care for him what’s she doin’ this 
trick for?” 

“What would Lila Merton or Lizzie Smith do 
it for?” 

“I s’pose either Lila Merton or Lizzie Smith 
would marry him a flyin’ if they could git him, 
wouldn’t they?” 

“ ’Deed they would,” acknowledged Susan 
proudly. “They both tried t*o get him before he 
took up with me for good.” 

“Well, then, there would be a reason for either 
one of them making up to him. But if, as you 
say, Colinette don’t care for him that way—” 

“Well, that’s what I don’t know; she may care 
for him that way too. Who knows what’s inside 
of her head? Doesn’t it seem queer what she is 
doing back here, gram’ma ?” 

Mrs. Gard looked hurt. “She said it was to 
see her folks. I don’t think that it ought to 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


95 

seem so queer that she should want to visit her 
old gram’ma who brought her up and who is the 
only family she’s got.” 

“It looks to me,” said Mrs. Dunlap, “as she 
had kind of—well, run out in the city. As I 
understand it, in a big city like New York or 
Chicago you can be pretty and smart and capable 
and still not attract very much notice. So many 
smart and pretty and capable ones that you don’t 
get anywhere. But in a small place like Red- 
moon, if you’re anyways smart or pretty or cap¬ 
able—and I don’t deny that Colinette is all three 
—why, you can go right to the top. For instance, 
in New York Colinette would probably daub away 
making magazine covers all her days. But here 
she can marry a rich man’s son, ride in her own 
car and just lead the whole town. She always 
did lead the town even when she was a school 
girl.” 

“That’s it exactly, ma!” exclaimed Susan. 
“Gram’ma, have you ever talked with Colinette 
about her life in New York, I mean outside of 
her work? Do you know if she had an affair 
of any sort with Neal Brackley. Has she ever 
mentioned Neal Brackley to you, or any of the 
Brackleys?” 

“Yes, I asked her about the Brackleys that first 
night she came. I asked her about Neal, but as 
I remember, she didn’t seem to know much about 


96 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

any of the Brackleys, and nothin' at all about 
Neal. I don’t think she’s seen anything of ’em 
since she’s been East. I think they sort of started 
her off and then when she could go it alone they 
sort of dropped her.” 

“I think that’s it,” said Mrs. Dunlap, “they 
dropped her and other folks dropped her, and so 
she’s back here to upset our plans.” 

“It ain’t like her, an’ you know it ain’t, Susan, 
to look out for her own interests ahead of other 
folkses, an’ you know it too—you other Susan. 
Both you Susans ought to know it.” Mrs. Gard 
was sticking stubbornly to her theory in spite of 
much evidence on the other side. “If she’s doin’ 
a wrong to Susan she’s doin’ it unconsciously—” 

“Colinette Gard isn’t in the habit of wandering 
around unconsciously,” sneered the younger Su¬ 
san, and her grandmother was obliged to admit— 
mentally—that Susan was right. 

“I’m goin’ to have it out with her at any rate,” 
she promised, “and when I do I’ll tell you what 
she says. Meanwhile, Susan, you brace up and 
tend to business, and when folks pitch on to you 
and harry you, grin and make believe you don’t 
care—as half the women alive are doin’ this 
day.” 


VIII 


Mrs. Gard went home in a solemn frame of mind. 
It was prayer meeting night, but she decided to 
give up prayer meeting in order to “have it out 
with Colinette.” It was a heavy task for the 
poor woman. She did so love to see the beau¬ 
tiful, sober little person opposite her at the sup¬ 
per table; sober, and at times weary after a day 
in the studio (although Mrs. Gard could never 
quite understand why such light work could 
weary body), but always appreciative of every¬ 
thing done for her comfort. 

When the two of them were alone, which did 
not happen as often as Mrs. Gard could wish, 
what joy it was to talk over their past experiences 
together. For they had seen a good deal of life 
in each others’ company. 

There were the days when Colinette, an alien, 
had come to dwell in the little brown house in 
a hostile village and had won her way to leader¬ 
ship through sheer force of character and genius. 
The Brackleys had taken her up and had put her 
in the way of earning enough to take her 
through art school in New York—oh, there were 

worlds of experiences to talk over. One, how- 

97 


98 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

ever, here under this very roof, borne in agony 
of spirit, with stubbornness on the part of both, 
and compromise at last, they seldom spoke of. 
It was painful to both alike and they had agreed 
there and then to let the truth of the matter be 
forgotten between, and save for the one brief 
allusion on grandmother’s part that first night of 
Colinette’s return, they had kept the agreement. 
If it should be necessary to mention it on the 
occasion of this most disagreeable interview 
which was about to take place, then, of course, 
Mrs. Gard would face the necessity as she had 
learned to face other necessities of life. She 
would lay the matter before the Lord, as was 
her wont, and then go forward, doing her duty 
as she was guided to see it, without fear and 
without favor. 

Colinette had said on that first night of her 
return that her one great fear was that she might 
some day lose her grandmother’s love. How 
could she know that the fear of losing her own 
bright, mysterious, unexplainable affection was 
the lion standing in the grandmother’s path this 
very moment? 

How far would Colinette allow her affairs to 
be meddled with without resenting the action, no 
matter whose hand did the meddling? 

It was cruel that she, Grandmother Gard, 
should be the one appointed to set matters right. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 99 

Why couldn’t they have settled their love troubles 
without her interference? 

But there it was: Susan was the weaker—had 
always been the weaker, the one needing help 
and protection. In schooldays Colinette had been 
Susan’s champion, now in the days of young love, 
Colinette had turned enemy, and made herself 
the one to be overcome. And who could cope 
with Colinette if not her beloved grandmother, 
backed by the knowledge that her cause was just? 

“If the Lord is on your side who can prevail 
against you,” quoted Grandmother Gard, and 
went home strengthened for the conflict. 

But her courage was not to be put to the test 
that night. She had just coaxed the kitchen fire 
into a good blaze when Aunt Rinthy Pickens 
arrived, self invited to supper. A few moments 
later Dr. Snyder’s car stopped in front of the 
house and Colinette ran in to announce that she 
was going up to Lake Jane with Gertie Calkins 
and the doctor. Away she went, and Mrs. Gard 
was left to an uneasy and at times an exasperat¬ 
ing evening with Aunt Rinthy who, having heard 
the bell, had come with a determined purpose to 
discover the clapper. 

What, she wanted to know, w'as all this talk 
about a quarrel between Susan and Colinette? 
Had Colinette said anything about it? 

Mrs. Gard floundered between the Scylla of 


lOO 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

lying and the Charybdis of giving away facts 
which it were better that Aunt Rinthy should not 
know. Colinette had said nothing about a quar¬ 
rel. 

She thanked goodness that Aunt Rinthy had 
not followed up her opening by asking if Susan 
had said anything about a quarrel. 

Why had the Susan-Jeff wedding been post¬ 
poned? 

Mrs. Gard had not heard that it had been post¬ 
poned—definitely. But it wouldn’t be strange if 
it had, seeing that Susan was so rushed in the 
store. 

Was Susan calculating to keep right on in 
business after she was married? 

Mrs. Gard hadn’t heard anything to the con¬ 
trary. 

Mrs. Pickens “presumed” that Colinette would 
whirl in and take up her share of the partnership 
again. 

As often as possible Mrs. Gard led Aunt Rinthy 
away from the subject of Colinette vs. Susan. 
These respites were short. Mrs. Pickens had 
come for the purpose of finding out just how 
much Gram’ma Gard knew of the scandal, and 
of telling gram’ma all she herself knew. 

She prefixed many of her statements with, 
“Helen says,” or, “they say down at the shop.” 
It was an anxious two hours for Mrs. Gard. 


101 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

Anxious as well as enlightening. The case 
was worse than she had feared. 

She kept Mrs. Pickens as long and as late as 
possible to prevent her going over to “pump” the 
Susans. Poor Susan! who was not well equipped 
for word dueling or for keeping secrets. 

When at last Mrs. Pickens went home, Mrs. 
Gard hurried across the street to her daughter’s 
house. She discovered a shadowy figure on the 
porch as she approached. It was her daughter. 

“That you, ma ? Oh, I thought it was Susan,” 
she explained to her mother. “Come on in.” 

Her mother read her thought before her next 
inquiry of “What’s the news?” 

“No news, Susan; I ain’t had a chance to talk 
to her at all. Rinthy stayed to supper, and 
Colinette is up to Lake Jane with Gertie Calkins 
and Doc. Snyder, so I ain’t had a chance.” Mrs. 
Gard’s sigh was echoed by her daughter’s. 

“Come on in. I’m all alone. Susan went 
back to the store after supper. I was in hopes 
you had had your talk out and could tell me about 
it. So seldom a word can be said here without 
Elmer or Luther takin’ it in.” Of late Susan 
Dunlap’s tone had taken on an unwonted bitter¬ 
ness when speaking of her husband or his son. 

In fact, the Dunlap household had become an 
armed camp of two factions, in which two grown 
men warred against one small, bony, abused 


102 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


woman. For Susan the younger took no part 
in the discussions. She merely slunk sullenly 
out of hearing as soon as possible after one 
began. 

The two women sat down in the close dark 
room by the front window talking over the same 
dreary subject. 

“I run over to warn you against Rinthy,” Mrs. 
Gard cautioned in an undertone. “You sure 
Elmer ain’t skulkin’ round upstairs somewhere, 
are you? You know his ways.” 

“I know well enough,’’ replied Mrs. Dunlap. 
“But he ain’t upstairs. Fact is, he ain’t been 
home today. He’s off sommers with Jeff Plum¬ 
mer. He didn’t come home to dinner and his 
father found out that he ain’t been to work at 
all today. His father is all wrought up about 
him. He’s got now where his father can’t do a 
thing with him. It does seem as if all our young- 
ones was tryin’ to do all they can to keep us in 
hot water. They tell about the blessing of chil¬ 
dren, but there are times when I almost wish 
I’d never had one. This trouble of Susan’s is 
drivin’ us all distracted. Luther acts like a zany 
over it. One thing, if Waldo and Rinthy would 
let him alone, he wouldn’t take it so to heart. 
In fact, he wouldn’t know much of anything 
about it. But they keep him posted. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


103 

“He says to me, 'your girl had a chance to 
make something of herself, but she ain’t goin’ 
to be smart enough to swing it, I can see. Might 
have known that Bill Taylor’s kid would fall 
down at everything she undertakes, just as Bill 
did.’ 

X 

“Well, now he’s finding out that his child can 
be a fizzle, as well as Bill Taylor’s poor Susan, 
who feels a good sight worse than he possibly 
can over this affair. And it’s something she 
can’t help, and he knows she can’t help it. But, 
my goodness, ma, you ought to hear what he 
says about poor dead Brother John! As if John 
is to blame for what his girl does any more’n 
Luther himself is to blame for Elmer goin’ wild 
the way he is for the last few months.” 

Mrs. Gard stirred uneasily in her chair. “It 
does seem queer to me,” she said, “that Luther 
should kick up such a rumpus about the chance 
of Susan’s losin’ Jeff Plummer when he knows 
that Jeff is just about ruining Elmer with his 
bad example and all.” 

“Yes—well, there’s no accounting for men,” 
sighed Mrs. Dunlap. 

“As I was saying,” went on Mrs. Gard, “you 
must weigh every word you say to Rinthy She’ll 
repeat everything to Helen and Helen will peddle 
it down to the milliner shop, and from there it 



'104 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

will be carried all over town The quieter we 
keep this business the better it will be for both 
the girls.” 

“That’s so,” assented Mrs. Dunlap. “Dear 
me, it seems a pity—so much trouble over some¬ 
thing that might have been avoided. Seems as 
if there was enough real trouble in this world— 
sickness and death and such things—without 
makin’ each other trouble.” 

The two women sat silent a moment. A 
cricket twanged his monotonous song, and the 
mosquitoes “pinged” at the screened window in 
an effort to get into the dark, warm house. 

“Yes, after all, this ain’t what you might call 
a real trouble,” said Mrs. Gard. “It will blow 
over and be forgotten in no time. I’m goin’ to 
ask Colinette what she’s up to. If she’s just 
flirtin’ with Jeff Plummer I’m goin’ to make her 
stop it; if she’s really in love with him—” She 
paused and Mrs. Dunlap held her breath for the 
end of her mother’s sentence. 

“Well?” she urged at last impatiently, “if she’s 
really in love with him, then what?” 

“Well, then the Lord help Susan!” finished 
Mrs. Gard solemnly, and Mrs. Dunlap heaved 
a sigh that was almost a groan. 

Susan herself came a few moments later. 

“What you two doing here in the dark?” she 
inquired, and her grandmother noticed an ex- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


10 * 

cited ring in her voice, a tone of hopefulness. 
She felt about for another chair and drew it up 
cosily between her relatives. 

“Helen says that Colinette got a letter from 
France today. She and Helen just happened to 
walk down to the postoffice together. Helen told 
Gusta that Colinette acted too queer for anything 
after she read that letter. Gusta says she knows 
well enough who the letter was from, and that 
she knows what has brought Colinette here to 
spend the summer in Redmoon. She says the 
letter was from her brother Willie, and that 
Colinette is here because she knows that Willie 
will be home this summer. Do you believe that, 
gram’ma?" 

The idea seemed to bring Susan so much 
happiness that Mrs. Gard encouraged it. “I 
shouldn't wonder one bit," she said, “and I hope 
it's so. I'd rather see her married to Willie 
Klatz than anybody I know. He always was 
good and trustworthy, and now that he has 
climbed right up next to General Pershing him¬ 
self in the army—why, who knows?" 

Susan cackled gaily. It was good to hear her 
laugh like that once more. “He’ll be home be¬ 
fore long now. Gusta got a letter a couple of 
weeks ago, and they were about ready to start 
them. She says she knows that Colinette’s letter 
was from him." 


106 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

Mrs. Gard went home in a greater maze than 
ever. She did not believe in the Willie Klatz 
theory which had been such a comfort to Susan; 
she did not believe that Colinette was in love with 
Jeff Plummer; she did not believe that Colinette 
would hurt Susan in the slightest degree if she 
realized that she was hurting her. In Mrs. 
Gard’s mind the only solution to the mystery was 
that Colinette was doing a wrong without know¬ 
ing it. When she was told in a kindly, straight¬ 
forward way, she would keep out of Jeff Plum¬ 
mer’s society, even if she had to go back to New 
York. He would not be apt to follow her there, 
and when she was gone he would return to his 
allegiance to Susan. How foolish it was for a 
whole family to “git riled up” over so simple a 
matter. 

She “had it out with Colinette” early the next 
morning. It did not turn out as Mrs. Gard had 
dramatized it in her own mind. She had imag¬ 
ined talking to Colinette in the front room after 
dark, just as she and the two Susans had sat in 
a dark room and talked the matter over the 
night before. It is much easier to speak of 
intimate things, things of which you are ashamed, 
and of which the other person ought to be 
ashamed, in the dusk. She had seen—with her 
mind’s eye—just how Colinette would deny any 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 107 

intention of causing Susan heartaches; she could 
hear her reiterate the fact that she loved Susan 
better than anybody else in the world except, of 
course, her grandmother; could hear her solemn 
promise. And when once Colinette promised, the 
matter was settled, for Colinette kept her promises 
always. 

In place of this desirable sequence of events, 
the interview took place in the garish light of 
morning. Colinette sat with her slender hands 
clasped about her knees as she listened to her 
grandmother’s bluntly-put accusation. She was 
pale, and her lashes—always so much darker than 
her hair—lay like dusky shadows on her cheeks. 
When at last her grandmother paused for a reply 
she seemed to have nothing to say—just sat 
guiltily, unhappily silent, and her grandmother 
went on: 

“What makes you act so, Colinette, cornin’ 
home here and jerkin’ Susan’s feller right out 
from under her nose the way they say you have? 
You’ve been in the city where there must have 
been lots of men if you’d wanted to marry. But 
here’s poor Susan with her one beau, and they 
just about ready to step off, and along you come 
an’ put a damper on the proceedings and spoil 
everything.” 

She paused, scanning Colinette’s face with an 



108 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

anxious eye, waiting for her to begin her defense, 
but Colinette maintained her silence. 

“Seems to me that if you think as much of 
your Cousin Susan as you always claim you do, 
you’d let Jeff Plummer alone even if you was 
dead in love with him—just dead in love—you’d 
be fair enough to step out of the way an’ let 
Susan have him as long as she got him first and 
everything was settled between ’em.” 

Again she waited, searching the lovely, droop¬ 
ing face. 

“But, somehow, you seemed to have changed 
since you been away.” 

“I have,” admitted Colinette softly, “I have 
changed. I’ve—gone back to that old motto of 
mine—my first one, you remember: Tf you 
want a thing, go after it!’ ” 

“Oh me, oh my!” groaned Mrs. Gard, “then 
it’s all so—that you want Jeff Plummer—really 
want him for yourself! Well I can’t understand 
it at all! Can’t understand why all the girls— 
and you, too—want that critter! He ain’t so 
handsome, and he’s dumb as an oyster. You 
used to think so yourself, Colinette, when you 
lived here. Still, I can remember when I was 
a girl there was a feller named Sidney Dish, who 
come into our neighborhood without pallet or 
scrip, an’ the girls all fit over him. He was bow- 
legged an’ rabbit-mouthed, but he could make 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 


109 


even the preacher laugh at his antics, and he 
played the fiddle like a he-angel. I can remember 
settin’ an’ listening to him play—” 

“Were you in love with him, too, grand¬ 
mother?” 

“I don’t know but I was, kindah—in a way.” 

“What made you love him?” 

“Well, that’s just what I was sayin’—what? 
I can’t tell. But I know this much: If my 
sister or my cousin had been engaged to Sidney 
Dish, I’d a felt it was pretty dishonest for me 
to step in and take him away even if I could 
have done it.” 

“Yes—because—that was your motto even 
then, wasn’t it, grandmother—‘Honesty is the 
Best Policy?' And you were working under that 
banner, which is—so different from mine—” 

Mrs. Gard got out of the patent rocker in 
which she had been sitting. She was about to 
deal the body blow; about to utter the irrevocable 
lie—to break Colinette’s heart, and, incidentally, 
her own. She felt that she could give it more 
force standing. 

“Well, if you persist in bein’ absolutely selfish; 
in havin’ your own way, no matter who suffers; 
if you persist in goin’ after the thing you want 
even if your road to it lies right across poor 
Susan’s heart—yes, an’ mine too—why—” she 
paused, and her face wrinkled with pain, her eyes 







110 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

glittered with suffering like the eyes of a trapped 
animal, “you won’t be welcome here in your own 
home any longer.” 

She had known the declaration would have its 
effect—she had meant that it should—but not 
such a terrible effect. With a little moaning cry 
Colinette let her head fall forward upon her 
hands. 

“It has come! It has come—what I have 
always dreaded! Oh, grandmother, why didn’t 
you keep out of it? Why did you mix up in 
it?” 

Her grandmother was beside her instantly, her 
old hands trembling, her voice husky with emo¬ 
tion. 

“There, there, dearie, don’t take on so. You’ll 
kill gram’ma! Now you just turn round and be 
a good girl an’ everything will be all right. You 
know how to be a good girl. You know well 
enough this business is harder on me than it is on 
you. All you got to do is to turn face about an’ 
be good an’ save all this misery— For goodness 
sake, Colinette, wipe off your face an’ stand up! 
Aunt Rinthy is cornin’ I can see her up the road 
on our side!” 

“You are punishing me, grandmother, and tell¬ 
ing me, as good mothers always tell their children 
that it hurts them more than it does the children, 
but you are wrong; it doesn’t hurt you as it does 


Ill 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

me! And isn't it queer—like a bad dream—be¬ 
cause, don't you remember, this all happened once 
before—right here in this room—" 

“She’s turnin’ in! Colinette, promise me to 
give up this wickedness of yours—quick, before 
she gits here!” 

“I can’t, grandmother; I shall go on just as I 
have begun. It’s too late to give up.” 

“Oh me, oh my, what shall I do!” wailed Mrs. 
Gard. 

“And I must tell you, grandmother, that if I 
had it all to do over again I should do just the 
same— But I will go away. I won’t stay here 
with you when you don’t want me—” 

“Colinette, I’ve prayed over this matter and 
prayed earnestly, but for some good reason that 
I ain’t big enough to see, the Lord ain’t seen fit 
to give me any light—not yet. But He will, I’m 
sure of that. He ain’t never failed me yet. But 
I want you to pray. I give you a week to—to— 
take it to the Lord in prayer. Will you?” 

Colinette nodded solemnly, and as Aunt Rinthy 
was at the door, caught up her hat and disap¬ 
peared, while grandmother went to let in the 
caller. 


/ 




IX 


If the morning had been bitter to Colinette it had 
been no less so to Susan Dunlap. She was eager 
to tell Jeff of Colinette’s letter from Willie Klatz. 
She was sure now that it was from Willie, as sure 
as was Willie’s sister. 

She did not go to her own work, but instead 
sauntered about the Plummer grain elevator until 
she caught sight of Jeff coming to his daily task 
in his usual late and lazy manner. 

“Hullo,” he greeted, “what are you doing here 
at this time of day?” 

She smiled at him. “Can’t I be going to work 
at ten o’clock as well as you?” 

“I suppose you can. Little different, though; 
your business is your own; mine is the old man’s.” 

“Mine is only half my own.” 

“Well, you’ve got a darned nice partner, I’ll 
say you have.” 

She regarded him angrily, “I wish you didn’t 
think so.” 

“But I do think so, and what can you do about 
it?” 

“Oh nothing, I suppose. But there is someone 
else who may not be as helpless in this matter as 
I am.” 

112 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 113 

“Who is that? Goin’ to have your stepfather 
lick me because I think your Cousin Colinette is 
a pretty girl/’ 

“Oh no; I don’t think he would trouble, but her 
lover may when he gets back.” 

“Who are you talking about, Miss Dunlap?” 

“Lieutenant Klatz.” 

“Villie— Oh Lord! I’ve got a picture of little 
Colinette taking up with Dutch Willie Klatz!” 

“She gets letters from him.” 

“I don’t believe it.” 

“I happen to know it, Mr. Plummer. I saw 
one, and a love-letter at that—well, anyhow Gusta 
says it was a love-letter. I won’t lie, I didn’t see 
the letter myself—” 

“No, I bet you didn’t. But don’t hesitate to 
say you did. When a woman gets jealous she’ll 
say anything.” 

“Oh, Jeff. I didn’t waylay you this morning to 
have a fight. Let’s quit quarreling and be happy 
as we were before—” 

“Well, I’m pretty sick of these blowouts myself 
—pretty sick of ’em; I told you when we first 
began to go together that you couldn’t keep me in 
a milliner’s bandbox, and I tell you so again. 
You’ve been acting like a—ninny ever since she 
came home.” 

“Well, let’s stop our bickering, Jeff. I’m will¬ 
ing to own that I’ve been jealous, but it’s because 



ii4 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


•—why, Jeff, you know it’s because I love you! 
Walk down this back street with me a little way 
and let’s talk it over—” 

“I can’t; I’ve got to open the office.” 

“You didn’t used to be so particular.” 

“Particular! Good governor, it’s after ten 
o’clock. Do you think it would be very smart for 
a business man to be caught mooning around the 
back street at this time in the forenoon?” 

“I think nobody would find fault if he were 
with the girl he is going to marry.” 

But Jeff made no move to acc.ept her invitation. 

“When did this wonderful letter come?” he 
asked sullenly. 

“Yesterday.” 

“How did you come to know what was in it and 
who it was from; did she show it to you?” 

Susan was at the end of her endurance. 
“What difference does it make to you, or to me, 
what was in her letter? If you want to know so 
badly, Jeff, you had better ask her.” 

“Oh, I can guess without seeing the letter. I 
think that letter was all in your eye.” 

“You mean that I lied about her getting a letter 
from France?” 

“Take it as you please.” He nonchalantly 
lighted a cigarette. Susan’s eyes were blazing. 
Her cheeks were so red they seemed about to 
burst. 



H5 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“Do you mean to accuse me of lying ?” 

“Take it as you please/’ 

“You don’t care very much for me any more, 
do you, Jeff?” He was carefully drawing on his 
light and did not answer. 

“Do you?” she persisted. 

“Oh rats! Chuck this rough work! I’ve got 
to go in and open up or the old man will be along 
and give me gowdy.” 

“Answer me first!” 

“How can a fellow care for a girl who nags 
him all the time?” 

“Then you own up that you don’t care?” 

“Say, Sue, there’s a man coming down the 
street; you better beat it. If you ain’t got any 
shame about chewin’ the rag out here on Main 
Street, why I have. He’ll think we’re already 
married.” 

“Answer me!” 

“I’ve forgotten what you asked.” 

“Jeff Plummer, your memory is too far gone 
for a girl to trust her life’s happiness in your 
hands. Here’s your ring; I’m through with you 
for good and all. Take it and give it to Colinette 
Gard!” She tore the ring from her finger and 
threw it upon the pavement. 

“Gosh, but you’re high and mighty!” he blus¬ 
tered. “You oughta git a job in some moving 
picture studio—tragedy queen, an’ all that. Who 


n6 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

you been studying with?” But he hurried to 
gather up the ring before the man who was ap¬ 
proaching should tread upon it. He stood look¬ 
ing after Susan for one wrathful moment, then 
he laughed insultingly and thrust the key into 
the office door. 

“Let her sulk!” he snarled. “She’ll come to a 
whistle if I should happen to want her. Mean¬ 
while—by George, I’m free!” 

Susan did not go to the shop. In her rage and 
despair her instinct led her towards home and 
seclusion. She could never go to the millinery 
store again; never endure the prying eyes, the 
secretly quacking tongues of that roomful of girls. 
How they would gloat over her defeat! The 
moment she stepped into the door they would 
notice that her ring was gone. In fact, she be¬ 
lieved they had been watching for its disappear¬ 
ance ever since the firemen’s dance. Well, it was 
gone now, and gone for good, but oh, the black¬ 
ness of the world, and the rage and despair in 
her heart! A pounding pain in her head made 
her dizzy, made her sway and reel as she walked 
the uneven ties of the railroad track on her wav 

w/ 

to Brown Street and mother and everlasting ob¬ 
scurity. Perhaps she was going to die. She 
hoped that she was. A picture immediately 
flashed upon her inner vision: The Dunlap par¬ 
lor decorously darkened, the long black casket 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


117 

(it would have to be long and large and wide and 
deep to hold her—great, overgrown, awkward 
thing that she was) standing in front of the west¬ 
ern window; GranTma Gard with tear-swollen 
eyes—oh yes, Gram’ma Gard would mourn and 
mourn sincerely—sitting beside her mother; the 
other friends and neighbors crowding the 
rooms— Would Jeff Plummer be there? Would 
his eyes be red with crying? Did a man cry when 
his sweetheart died? Would he come at all?— 
Who was that standing on the Pettingill corner? 

Colinette Gard! Oh, why must she meet Coli- 
nette Gard on this of all mornings? 

And again, why not? It was just the time to 
meet Colinette Gard; to accuse her; to let her 
know what she had done; to give her fair warn¬ 
ing that she, Susan Dunlap, was through with 
her forever! 

Colinette came to meet her. Susan glared at 
her with a great hatred. How white she was, 
how unhappy-looking! Well, even she might 
have a conscience, and might be suffering in con¬ 
sequence. 

“Susan,” said Colinette softly. 

Susan sneered. “Oh you needn’t 'Susan’ me, 
now or ever any more! I know you now— 
through and through, and I can’t see how Uncle 
John could have been the father of such a two- 
faced, sneaking, lying little cheat! You hear 


n8 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

what I say? I never want you to speak to me 
again—never again! I don't care if you are my 
cousin. I don’t care if you were my sister, I hate 
you, and I always shall hate you!” 

“Oh, Susan—and I am in such deep trouble—” 

“Oh are you? Well then you will know how 
to pity other folks who are in trouble. Me, for 
instance; I am in trouble and you are the cause 
of it, as you know very well. But from now on 
we are through—you and I. I am as much 
through with you as I am with Jeff Plummer, and 
how much that is you will find out when you see 
him next, I don’t doubt.” 

Colinette pressed the back of one slender hand 
against her lips, as was her wont under strong ex¬ 
citement 

“You—you are through with Jeff Plummer? 
You have—broken your engagement ?” 

“Oh yes. Aren’t you glad? There is noth¬ 
ing to hinder your having him now. You won’t 
have to daub pictures for a living any more; you 
can ride around in the Plummer car and be a 
lady. But mind you keep away from me—now 
and always! This is the last time I shall ever 
speak to you!” 

“Susan, grandmother has turned me out. She 
doesn’t want me any more—” 

“I don’t blame her. She has found out what 
you are—” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


119 

"Oh, Susan, don’t hate me so! I am not as 
bad as you think—” 

But Susan turned and went her way without 
another word. 

That night Dr. Merton’s little black car stood 
in front of the Dunlap house, and the word went 
forth that Susan Dunlap was very ill. Colinette, 
on her week’s probation, with her grandmother 
went to the door, but was refused admittance. 
Later Mrs. Gard went over alone. Her daughter 
met her at the door. 

"Susan is an awful sick girl, ma,” she whis¬ 
pered. "She don’t want to see anybody, and Dr. 
Merton says we must humor her. Aunt Rinthy 
has been here already, and has gone away as mad 
as a hatter because I wouldn’t let her in.” 

"But how you goin’ to manage alone?” be¬ 
moaned Mrs. Gard. 

"Oh I don’t know; I s’pose it’ll work out some¬ 
how,” Mrs. Dunlap groaned in return. "If only 
poor Susan gits well I’m. willin’ to work my fin¬ 
gers to the bone!” 

"Susan’s goin’ to come out all right,” her 
mother assured her. "You keep your faith 
bright, and make Elmer and Luther come to my 
house to eat. Cast your burden on the Lord and 
He will carry you through.” But Mrs. Gard’s 
own faith and courage were wavering as she 
crossed the road to her own house. 


120 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


For the space of ten days Susan lay in her 
darkened bedroom seeing no one but her mother 
and the doctor. At the end of that time her 
grandmother was allowed to come in and talk 
with her a few moments, and although that lady 
said little, somehow her presence, and the sense 
of the world forsaken so long, awoke in Susan a 
poignant desire to “hear the worst.” But she 
was forbidden to talk, and her grandmother went 
away without telling her anything save that “the 
business was goin’ on just splendid, and she 
mustn’t fret, but just turn her attention to gittin’ 
well as fast as she could.” 

After her grandmother had gone Susan re¬ 
gretted that she had not questioned her. Coli- 
nette had said that her grandmother had turned 
her out of her door; where was she, then? She 
could not sleep in her studio. Perhaps she was 
already married—to Jeff. How long did it take 
to get a marriage license ? 

The more she allowed- her mind to linger on the 
questions so rigorously shut out during the days 
past, the more she determined that the time had 
now come to face the music, no matter how ter¬ 
rible the air. 

She reached for the little bell, placed beside her 
bed for that purpose, and summoned her mother. 
She heard the eager, stumbling steps of the poor, 
overworn little woman coming up the stairs. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


121 


How many times those aching feet had climbed 
those stairs during the days she had been shut 
up here. And why? Because she, Susan, had 
chosen to make a fool of herself! Why hadn’t 
she been sport enough to bear her own sorrows 
quietly instead of loading them off upon her al¬ 
ready enslaved mother; been brave enough to 
bear them by herself as—yes, she must acknowl¬ 
edge it—as the detested Colinette would have 
borne them in her place? 

When her mother appeared, she was sitting up 
in bed. Mrs. Dunlap cried out in a sort of de¬ 
lighted fright. 

“Why, Susan, lie down! What you doin’, set- 
tin’ up this way? Doctor said—” 

Susan sank back weakly. “I—guess I’m sort 
of hungry.” 

“You dear child!” cried her mother delighted, 
“I’ll run over to gram’ma’s and phone to doctor 
and ask him if I dare give you something, and 
what will be best—” 

“No, ma,” Susan put out a hand and held her 
mother weakly, “I’m—in no hurry. I’ve waited 
so long I can wait a few minutes longer. Sit 
down and—tell me a few things.” 

Her mother drew up a chair, and Susan imag¬ 
ined she read reluctance and fear in the tired face. 

“She thinks I’m going to ask about—him, and 
that what she would be obliged to tell me would 


122 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


make me bad again,” she decided. “I believe I 
could hear anything—the very worst—without a 
tremor. Poor ma! She doesn’t know that when 
I heaved that ring at him there on Main Street I 
gave up completely. I quit for good right then 
and there. And now I’m going to brace up and 
take my share of the load—yes, and a little more, 
if I can make up for this horrid spell. Poor ma, 
how yellow and black and drawn around the 
mouth she looks! 

“You’ve had an awful hard pull of it, haven’t 
you, ma?” 

“No, dear, not so hard only that I was so wor¬ 
ried about you. You see, I ain’t had anything 
to do except to take care of you, talk to callers and 
let the doctor in and out.” 

“Who has been doing the housework?” 

“Well, gram’ma made Luther eat over to her 
house.” 

“And Elmer?” 

“Elmer went a hunting over to Dahinda marsh 
the very day after you was taken sick, and he 
ain’t been home since. It’s made it a good deal 
easier for me.” 

% 

So Elmer had gone to the big marsh hunting. 
That meant that Jeff Plummer had gone too. 
Elmer never went to Dahinda without Jeff. 

She forced herself to ask, “Did Jeff Plummer 
go with him?” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


123 

“Yes.” It was strange how much dislike could 
be put into a word of three letters. Susan under¬ 
stood that her mother laid all her trouble, all her 
fright and fatigue at Jeff’s door. 

“You say there have been lots of callers here 
to ask after me?” 

Her mother brightened. “Oh, everybody in 
town most. Doc. Merton’s wife and Lila, and 
Gertie Calkins twice, and Lizzie Smith and her 
mother—” 

“And who else?” 

“Well, Aunt Rinthy has been here morning 
noon and night, and always bound to git upstairs, 
f’ve had the awfullest time keepin’ her down.” 

“I’ll bet you have. I’m glad you kept her 
down; I couldn’t have stood Aunt Rinthy, ma.” 

“And Uncle Waldo has been about as bad. 
Ask questions, and ask questions, till a body is 
about crazy!” 

“Poor ma. Well who else?” 

“The Klatzes have been here every day. 
They’ve been awful good. Mrs. Klatz has done 
all my baking and washing. Gusta has been al¬ 
most as bad as Aunt Rinthy about wantin’ to get 
up here to see you. She says she has a whole lot 
to tell you as soon as you are strong enough to 
hear it.” 

“I wonder what it can be,” said Susan dream- 

ay. 


124 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“I guess I could tell you the most of it,” 
laughed Mrs. Dunlap. “Willie is coming next 
week. He is in New York now. The Klatzes 
are all excitement over it.” 

Mrs. Dunlap hesitated, looked at her daughter 
yearningly, and then said, “gram’ma’s got 
something to tell you when you are a little 
better—something about Colinette and Willie 
Klatz.” 

“Colinette and Willie?” 

“Yes. We were all mistaken about her bein’ 
in love with Jeff Plummer; she don’t care a fig 
for Jeff Plummer and never has. She and 
gram’ma have had a good long talk and—” 

“And of course gram’ma has forgiven her and 
taken her back.” 

“Why yes, what else could gram’ma do? Af¬ 
ter she had promised never to have anything more 
to say to Jeff—but I’ll let gram’ma tell you the 
whole story herself.” 

Susan’s lip curled. “Oh gram’ma needn’t; I’d 
rather she just kept still about the whole business. 
I don’t want anybody ever to talk to me about Jeff 
Plummer or Colinette Gard or Willie Klatz; I’m 
through with the whole bunch. All I want now 
is to get well and to get back to work.” 

“You mustn’t worry about the store. Every¬ 
thing is just booming there, Gusta tells me. Coli¬ 
nette whirled right in and waited on trade ever 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


125 

since you’ve been away. Gusta says Colinette 
could sell a hat to a stone image.” 

“Yes—well, you go and get me something to 
eat, please, ma; an egg, or something strengthen¬ 
ing. It’s a shame the way you’ve had to travel 
up and downstairs. But I’ll pay you back, ma. 
I shan’t have anything to do now but to pay you 
back because—I’m not going to be married now, 
vou know.” 

“Oh pshaw! You and Jeff will patch up your 
quarrel now. When he comes back from the 
marsh he’ll ask your forgiveness and everything 
will be just as it was before.” 

Susan shook her head. “Never, ma. I 
wouldn’t marry Jeff Plummer now if he should 
beg me to on his bended knees!” 

“Well, well, don’t talk now, Susan, and don’t 
think. Just keep quiet and git strong. Every¬ 
thing will look different to you when you begin 
to git round again.” 

“Maybe. But see here, ma, I want you to tell 
gram’ma that I don’t want her to say one word to 
me now or ever about what passed between her 
and Colinette. It doesn’t make any difference to 
me now one way or the other. It has all come 
out just as I said it would, and I don’t care to 
hear the details. You tell gram’ma I said so.” 

“All right, dear. Now you lie still and I’ll be 
up in no time with a nice egg, a creamy piece of 


126 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


toast, and some of the jell that 1 hid away from 
Elmer in the meal-crock.” 

Susan obeyed her mother in the matter of lying 
still, but her thoughts flew from one subject to 
another with unruly rapidity. The strange part 
was that they did not dwell so much on Jeff Plum¬ 
mer as upon the returning soldier Willie Klatz. 
She should never forgive Jeff, but her resentment 
towards Colinette was already fading into a mere 
cold indifference, tinged now and then with a 
spirit of revenge. 

All through his boyish days Willie Klatz had 
adored her. Through all her scorn and neglect 
of him he had remained her loyal knight. He 
had been nobody in those days; now he was re¬ 
turning a be-medaled hero for whom Redmoon 
was waiting to hand out welcoming banners. 
She wondered if she might not still hold some 
place in Willie’s thoughts; might not—in a slighter 
measure, of course—visit some of the aching jeal¬ 
ousy upon Colinette which Colinette had been the 
cause of her feeling. Colinette had succeeded 
where Jeff Plummer was concerned even as she, 
Susan, had predicted that she would. It might 
have been through ignorance that Colinette had 
caused her unhappiness, but the fact remained 
that she had caused it, and that now she turned 
eagerly to greet the soldier who, it appeared, had 
been her lover all the time. 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


127 


What had turned Willie Klatz’s thoughts to 
Colinette so completely if not the news of Susan’s 
engagement to Jeff Plummer? And, of course, 
if on his return Willie had found that engage¬ 
ment still existing—but now that she was again 
free— 

Susan lay and counted her ten thin fingers over 
and over and thought of all these things while 
she waited for her mother to bring up the toast. 


X 


Susan dreaded her return to the store, her first 
meeting with Colinette, the return of Elmer with 
his sneers and knowing innuendoes, the unkind 
speeches of her disappointed stepfather, but more 
than all she dreaded Aunt Rinthy Pickens and her 
family. If only she could avoid the meeting with 
Aunt Rinthy or Helen for a year or two, or, at 
least until she was strong enough not “to blubber 
at every hint”—but, of course, that was impos¬ 
sible. Aunt Rinthy had been bombarding her 
door daily and had it not been for the fact that 
Colinette and Grandmother Gard had both been 
excluded from the sick room she would have been 
in long ago. 

But luck favored Susan in the matter of hold¬ 
ing of her inquisitive relatives. The day before 
Susan came downstairs for the first time Mrs. 
Pickens tucked her daughter Helen under her 
arm and flew away to Milltown to shop. Helen 
was to be clothed for the Calkins wedding. 

The meeting with Colinette was not, after all, 
unpleasant in the least. In fact it took place so 
suddenly that Susan hardly realized until after 
It was over. Colinette did not ask to be admitted 
and thus gave her cousin time to marshall all her 

128 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


129 

resentful feelings. She came without any an¬ 
nouncement whatever. Just a quick step on the 
stair—the sound of which had always been wel¬ 
come in the old days—and two warm arms about 
Susan’s neck. 

“Well, Sus, I’m glad to see you up again. 
You are awfully good looking now. It is becom¬ 
ing to you—this thinness. I mustn’t stay. Aunt 
Susan and grandmother don’t know I’m up here; 
they’d whip me out if they did. But—Willie 
Klatz comes home on the six o’clock tomorrow 
night, and the town is turning itself inside out 
to welcome him. You ought to see the decora¬ 
tions. You must see them. Lila Merton wants 
you and me to go with her and her father to see the 
parade. Her mother can’t go, and Lila says 
there will be a perfectly lovely back seat in the 
car which we can have all to ourselves. We can 
wrap you up, and, really, I believe it will do you 
good.” 

It was like Colinette to ignore all past troubles, 
to neither ask nor offer forgiveness for words 
spoken or for deeds done. And of course that 
was the easier way. 

In view of Colinette’s tenderness, Susan ex¬ 
perienced a pang of contrition at the revengeful 
plan in her own mind. But she must be inexor¬ 
able. She must remember those tortures through 
which she had passed unsupported and alone. 


130 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“It’s going to be great fun/’ Colinette went on 
to say, “Willie doesn’t know a word about the 
celebration which Redmoon has already to ava¬ 
lanche upon him. He’ll be scared to death.” 

From the back seat of Dr. Merton’s car Susan 
looked forth with wonderment at the streaming 
banners, the crowds, the motor cars all banked 
together about the station to welcome plain Willie 
Klatz. Her heart beat a little quicker at her first 
glimpse of him, standing smiling on the car step 
before he was caught up by reaching hands and 
borne to the car which had been awaiting him. 
This was maneuvered into its place next the band 
wagon and sailed slowly toward Main Street at 
the head of the long procession while the crowd 
cheered, yelled, threw up caps, and otherwise 
signified its pleasure and pride in the return of a 
hero. 

Colinette, leaning from her place beside Susan, 
clapped her hands wildly. Her cheeks were 
pinker than Susan had ever seen them before; her 
hair made a golden frame for her vivid face. 

Susan sank back into her dark corner, expe¬ 
riencing the most poignant moment of unhappi¬ 
ness of all this unhappy period. What was she, 
the discarded sweetheart, the jibe and joke of 
Redmoon, to imagine she could retain any place 
in the thoughts of this new, strange Willie Klatz! 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


131 

This Lieutenant Klatz was as different from 
Uncle Waldo Pickens’s slouching, good-hearted 
young hired man—as different as she herself was 
different from Colinette. 

“He wasn’t so bewildered after all, was he?” 
triumphed Colinette. “The scamp! He has 
grown used to the throwing up of caps and the 
hurrahing of crowds. He'll be so conceited 
there’ll be no getting along with him.” 

Susan did not reply. This new-found conceit 
of Willie Klatz’s was Colinette’s problem—not 
hers, but she realized that Jeff Plummer had been 
wrong in thinking that Colinette would be obliged 
to stoop to Willie Klatz. 

Susan was hurt by the fact that Willie did not 
come to see her the day after his arrival. There 
had been a time when he would have made that 
his first errand. 

She saw him walking up the street with Coli¬ 
nette. They sauntered slowly along, seemingly 
much engrossed in some matter of deep interest. 
Once Willie gazed across at the Dunlap house 
and Susan was sure that he would stop on his 
way home. But he did not, and later, sitting by 
the kitchen window, she saw him, his mother and 
Colinette on the Klatzes back porch still talking, 
talking. 

Susan had been placidly helping her mother to 
get supper, and now her stepfather came home 


132 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

from work. He passed through the kitchen to 
hang his coat and hat in the “shed-room” where 
he always kept them. 

“I saw Plummer on the street as I came through 
town just now/’ he began. 

Susan always braced herself to hear that name 
whenever Dunlap appeared. He took especial 
delight in keeping it fresh in her thoughts. 

“He says Jeff and our young hopeful will be 
home day after tomorrow. Pligh time, I think. 
Been gone over two weeks.” 

“Yes,” assented Mrs. Dunlap, scurrying from 
stove to table and from table to pantry, putting 
the last touches to the evening meal. Luther 
went out to the washbench in the back room and 
made himself ready for supper before he unloaded 
the remaining items of news gathered on his 
homeward way. 

“Walked up with Waldo just now. He said 
he heard that Willie Klatz had hired a car for a 
month. Goin’ to take some party out on a auto¬ 
mobile trip. Waldo wanted to know if any of 
our folks was goin’. I says, 'well now no; not 
that anybody knows of.’ Says I, 'Elmer is the 
only one of our folks who would be likely to go, 
and he ain’t in from his last trip yet.’ I’d sooner 
think it was some of the down town crowd—Doc. 
Merton’s girl or Lizzie Smith. Some of that 
outfit. Waldo says Willie was trainin’ round 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


* 133 

down town with all the swells, now that he’s made 
a hit as a soldier he’s right up in G.” 

“Come, Susan,” coaxed her mother, “here’s 
some of your favorite stew fixed the way you like 
it.” 

But Susan’s interest in stew was not marked. 

“You’ll have to eat if you expect to git your 
strength,” commented Dunlap. “And I should 
think you’d want to git your strength and git 
back to business. I shouldn’t want to leave the 
business in John Gard’s girl’s hands any longer’n 
I was obliged to—right through the heft of the 
season too.” 

Susan left the table presently, and wandered 
into the living room. From the open front door 
she saw Grandmother Gard and Colinette out in 
their front yard talking, talking— Why was 
Colinette always talking today ? She had seemed 
to be arguing with Willie, with Mrs. Klatz, and 
now with her grandmother. Susan could see even 
at that distance that Colinette was engaged in a 
struggle of some sort with “gram’ma.” Well, 
“gram’ma” might as well give up first as last; 
Colinette would triumph in the end. 

Mrs. Gard went up her own steps and Colinette 
came straight across the street and up the Dun¬ 
lap steps. 

“Well, Sue.” 

“Hello, Colinette.” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


134 

“How is the sick girl today?” 

“Nicely, thank you.” Susan’s tone was coldly 
formal. 

“Where are the folks?” 

“Eating supper in the kitchen.” 

“Why aren’t you eating supper with them?” 

“She just hasn’t any appetite at all,” called Mrs. 
Dunlap. 

“She never can expect to git anywhere if she 
don’t eat,” announced Dunlap. “Guess she sort 
a likes lazin’ round home, so she means to keep 
weak as long as she can.” 

Susan smiled in a sickly manner. She was 
thinking of next day after tomorrow when Elmer 
and Jeff Plummer and Helen and Aunt Rinthy 
would all be home again and she would have to 
face the music—the deadly music of comment 
and pleasantry. She was quite certain that Jeff 
would approach her again, after making certain 
that Colinette would have none of him—when 
he beheld with his own eyes her infatuation for 
Willie Klatz. 

Susan was sure that if she wished to reinstate 
Jeff as her lover it could be done. But back of 
her lifelong infatuation for him burned a fierce 
resentment amounting almost to hatred. How¬ 
ever, this might wear away in time, and then 
would she allow herself to be cajoled back to the 
slavery which she had escaped ? He had warned 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


135 

4 

her that in taking him she must leave her mother 
behind, and through all the days of her illness 
and humiliation had loomed the comforting 
thought that now, at least, there was no one to 
dictate as to how much she was to love and cling 
to her mother. 

“I think that Susan would rather be well, ,, said 
Colinette, “but she never will be if she stays shut 
up in this house. So grandmother and I have 
hired a car and a driver to take her out for a trip 
and a change. Isn’t that lovely, Susan?” 

It was Colinette’s way to take Susan’s consent 
for granted. It was settled, the car and the 
driver were hired—too late for objections. 

But Susan had no idea of objecting. “How 
long would we be gone?” she asked eagerly, see¬ 
ing nothing in the arrangement beyond a short 
reprieve from Aunt Rinthy, Helen and Gertie 
Calkins. 

“Until you get your roses back, and your ap¬ 
petite,” Colinette promised her. 

It was Luther who objected. “Oh pshaw! 
that’s all foolishness. If she stays right to home 
and takes that tonic the doctor left for her she’ll 
be all right in time. And besides, where did you 
an’ Mother Gard git so much money that you can 
hire cars an’ drivers, an’ all?” 

“Too late to think about that part, because the 
car and driver are already hired,” said Colinette. 


136 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“So, Sue, you must get ready right away. We 
must start tomorrow morning early.'’ Colinette 
swept Luther and his objections from her path 
as she would have swept any little insignificant 
obstacle. “You must take all the warm wraps 
you have, because we shall drive late at night 
part of the time, and you might be cold.” 

Susan made a motion as if to go upstairs at 
once to begin her preparations. 

Luther twirked his neck. “You an’ Mother 
Gard are taking pretty ignorant chances. How 
do you know what a strange chauffeur will let 
you in for in the way of accidents? Why, my 
land! don’t you know that an automobile will play 
off more tricks than a balky horse ever thought 
of? An’ you load of women off summers in the 
country with a driver that don’t know his busi¬ 
ness—nice expense you’d run into, say nothing 
of danger. But that’s just like Mother Gard. 
Tell you what you can do, though; Elmer’s cornin’ 
home day after tomorrow, you can put off startin’ 
till he gets here an’ take him along—” 

“But we are quite sure of our driver, Uncle 
Luther. It is Willie Klatz, who knows a motor 
from the headlight to the spare tire behind. 
Why, Willie drove a tank in France for a while. 
Willie can take care of us.” 

“Willie? Humph! I heard down town that 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 137 

he’d hired a car to take a party off some’rs. I 
should think he’d want—” 

“Yes, we have hired Willie.” 

“I should think, now that he’s just got home, 
he’d want to stay and visit his own folks for a 
spell.” 

“I presume he would be glad to, but like all re¬ 
turning soldiers, Willie must pick up any old job 
which happens to come his way. Grandmother 
had given him a job and he has no choice.” 

Susan had settled back with a disappointed look 
upon her face. She was not sure she wished to 
be a spectator to Colinette’s latest love drama. 
She was tired of love stories. In books they 
ended happily, in real life, never. There, the 
girl lost her sweetheart, or got him, and was 
sorry afterwards. 

“I’ve come over to help you pack,” urged Coli- 
nette, and led her cousin away up stairs. She 
made Susan sit down in the least uncomfortable 
chair in the room. Then she shut the door se¬ 
curely and sat down herself upon the bedside. 

“I have a scheme,” she confided, in the old way 
which Susan knew so well. 

“You are not looking just right yourself,” ven¬ 
tured Susan, and her observation seemed to please 
Colinette. 

“I’ve been having war with grandmother, and 


138 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

a fight with grandmother is always wearing to 
me; you know that, Sue.” 

“What’s the matter now?” inquired Susan lan- 
quidly. 

“She won’t do what I think best.” 

“You haven’t trained her as you should.” Col- 
inette ignored the not too latent sarcasm. 

“She won’t go on this expedition.” 

“But you said downstairs—” 

“I know, but all the same, grandmother abso¬ 
lutely refuses to go with us. I do so want her to 
go. It would do her a world of good. And she 
and your mother would have such a good time 
together—” 

“My mother! What are you getting at, Coli- 
nette? My mother isn’t—” 

“Yes she is, Sue, and that is what I want to 
talk to you about. Sue, your mother is just worn 
out—hush, hush, now! Don’t begin that; brace 
up and listen to my plan. What with your being 
sick, and that everlasting nagging old Luther 
Dunlap and Elmer to wait on, she is just ready 
to collapse. She needs a rest—” 

“Oh I know it!” groaned Susan. “Poor little 
ma! Poor tired little ma! But you needn’t think 
for a minute that pa will let her go on a trip, 
even if she dies of tiredness.” 

“He wouldn’t if he knew, of course, and she 
wouldn’t if she knew, but they do not know.” 


139 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“He’ll send Elmer instead.” 

“Not in my bus,” murmured Colinette. “But 
grandmother has rather spoiled the arrangement 
by refusing to go with us. We should have been 
such a jolly party with her along—not a care as 
to what we were leaving behind. Now, all 
through the weeks I shall be wondering if she is 
well, and happy, and not too lonely—” 

“Weeks! How long do you expect to be 
gone?” 

Colinette explained by going right on with what 
she had said to her grandmother. 

“I said, 'grandmother, we shall be gone almost 
all of the rest of the summer.’ We shall not only 
be gone, but we shall be good and gone. No one 
shall know where we are. We shall be lost, com¬ 
pletely, astonishingly, mysteriously. We shall be 
obliged to be, or Uncle Luther will command Aunt 
Susan to return to slavery, and Aunt Susan will 
obey.” 

“But how are you going to persuade pa to—” 

“Leave everything to me, Susan, and remem¬ 
ber this: It is not on account of your health at 
all that I have undertaken to captain this expedi¬ 
tion—in time you would have got well by your¬ 
self—but unless we scheme a rest for your mother 
she isn’t going to stand it long—” 

“Oh, poor ma!” wailed Susan again. “I know 
you are right about ma—” 



140 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“Now the question is, are you willing to back 
me in—well—and this is the rock that grand¬ 
mother split on—a little bit of deceit in order to 
get your mother away? Now are you? You 
see grandmother is still marching under her old 
banner—perfect honesty. But we can't pry Aunt 
Susan loose along that line, and I am using my 
own methods—just for this occasion, you under¬ 
stand. And what I want to know is, will you 
back me?" 

A stubborn look came into Susan’s face. “I’ll 
back you to the limit, Colinette! I’ll lie and cheat 
and swear—’’ 

“You won’t have to go to such extremes.’’ 

“What shall I have to do, then? Tell me, and 
I’ll do it no matter what it is.’’ 

“Just keep perfectly quiet and let me do the 
lying and cheating and so on. You know, I am 
really so much better fitted for that sort of thing 
than you are. Just you keep still. Don’t call 
out, ‘why, Colinette, I thought you said—’ when 
strange things happen. Take everything for 
granted. If the moon falls out of the sky and 
bowls along in front of the car, don’t take any 
notice of it or make any comments. Just think, 
‘Oh well, this isn’t my job; my job is to keep 
mum and enjoy myself; my work is to rest and 
to play the game, so that my mother may rest 
too.’ ” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


141 

“That’s easy, I’m sure. But I don’t see how 
you are going to—” 

“Now there you go, Sue. Remember, if the 
moon tumbles out of the sky you are to keep 
still.” 


XI 


It seemed almost a miracle to Susan that the 
expedition should get under way without even 
Uncle Waldo Pickens present to see the start, 
but so it happened. It was early in the morning 
that Willie swung up to Mrs. Gard’s door in the 
comprehensive touring car into which he pro¬ 
ceeded dextrously to pack the rolls of blankets, 
rugs, baskets and baggage of all sorts awaiting 
him on the little slanting porch. His mother and 
sister came with mysterious little offerings tis¬ 
sued and tied and hastily tucked in as surprises 
for the voyagers. He smiled eagerly at Susan 
when she appeared, and handed her into the back 
seat, “back where you can loll and be comfy,” 
he told her. 

“Yes, the old and invalided must take the back 
seat,” she grumbled. 

“You bet. Colinette and I are the tough ones; 
we’ll sit in front and take the dust.” 

Mrs. Dunlap came hurrying with another 
shawl to tuck about Susan. She hardly knew 
whether this jaunt was going to be good for 
Susan or bad. 

“When shall we begin to look for you back?” 

142 

% 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 143 

she asked, reaching up to straighten Susan’s veil, 
and tuck it down into her coat collar. 

“We may be back tonight,” warned Willie. 
“This old boat may go to pieces on the rocks.” 

Mrs. Gard was carefully locking her doors. 
Luther Dunlap appeared buttoning his vest, his 
hair wild from a recent pillow. He had nearly 
been up too late to see the start. 

“You’d better plan to git back Thursday,” he 
advised. “Which way you headin’ this morn- 

ing?” 

“Due East,” Willie informed him. 

“Then you’ll pass through Green Springs about 
three this afternoon, and you’ll pull into Little 
Clyde some time tomorrow. When you git to 
Little Clyde, drop a card so we’ll know where you 
are.” 

“What do you want to know for?” asked 
Willie laughing. 

“Why, we might want to send you word of 
some kind.” 

CoHnette came and climbed into the front seat. 
“We sha’n’t send many cards,” she warned. 
“We’re going out on purpose to get lost—lost to 
everybody.” 

Willie got Mrs. Gard comfortably settled be¬ 
side Susan in the back. 

“Now, girls, don’t you worry about the shop,” 
advised Gusta, “everything is going smooth and 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


144 

fine there. You just forget millinery and hats 
and things and have a good time.” 

“Who you calculatin’ to have tend your 
chickens?” demanded Luther of Mrs. Gard. 

“Elmer will be home tomorrow, won’t he? 
You tell him I left word for him to tend the 
chickens,” and Willie murmered in an aside to 
his seatmate, “poor chickens!” 

“We’ll attend to the chickens,” promised Mrs. 
Klatz, and everybody said good-by, and the car 
swept down the hill, around the corners and 
through the still quiescent Main Street. 

They were off. The morning air was like 
wine to Susan, and the sense of getting over 
space rapidly—escaping—was exhilarating. The 
warm, quiet body of her grandmother there on 
the seat beside her was comfortable and reas¬ 
suring but—where was ma? Colinette had an¬ 
nounced that the expedition was to be taken on 
her account and for her benefit, yet she was left 
behind, straining loving eyes after them, or by 
this time back in the stuffy kitchen busy with 
the Dunlap breakfast. 

The autoists breakfasted beside a running 
stream, lunched at a spring fifty miles farther 
east, and put up for the night at Greenfield. 
From here they proceeded at a leisurely rate of 
speed to Little Clyde, which they reached while 
the day was still new. Here Willie saw them 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 145 

comfortably established at a hotel while he took 
the car to a garage for necessary supplies and 
repairs. 

It must be something very serious which 
needed attention, Susan decided, for the hours 
went by and Willie did not return. She heard 
Colinette ask a maid to direct her to the telegraph 
office. She wondered if the car was wrecked 
beyond repair and if Willie had gone for another, 
but remembering her promise, she asked no ques¬ 
tions. 

They passed the second night at Little Clyde 
and after breakfast Willie took them out walking 
to see some of the pretty houses of the pleasant 
little city. Colinette walked with her grand¬ 
mother, and they talked together earnestly. 
Willie and Susan paced slowly along saying 
little or nothing to each other. 

Willie was indeed very much changed. It 
was amazing what war and travel and glory 
could do for a young man. He was thin and 
good looking and much more graceful than he 
had been when he was young. It was plain 
enough to Susan that he had entirely recovered 
from his youthful infatuation for herself. 

And she had dreamed of punishing Colinette 
by flirting with her lieutenant! Foolish, and 
vain, and unkind! How long would it rake her 
to learn that she was not attractive to men, and 


146 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

to fall into her place in the background of other 
people’s love affairs? 

Once she tripped on a broken place in the walk, 
and he caught her with a strong, but gentle hand. 
The touch was, somehow, comforting and pleas¬ 
ant. It thrilled her with a sense of being cared 
for. 

When they returned to the hotel she was tired, 
and Colinette suggested that she lie down and 
take a short rest. She did so, intending to think 
over matters of which she was not allowed to 
talk. 

But the longer she thought the more inextric¬ 
able became the puzzle. And so she left it and 
fell to wondering what effect her running away 
would have upon Jeff when he got back. Would 
he be sorry when told of her illness? She de¬ 
cided that he would not. His was not a sym¬ 
pathetic nature. But she felt quite sure that he 
would be sorry because of Colinette’s absence. 

“And he will try to find us, not on my account, 
but on hers,” she decided. “And he will find us 
too. He has a car of his own and nothing 
especial to tie him at home. He and Elmer will 
jaunt out, inquire along the road, get our trail 
and keep it until they catch us, and then—what?” 
When he came to understand how matters were 
between Colinette and Willie, would he turn for 
consolation to his old love? And would his old 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 147 

love condescend to comfort him? Would she be 
able to forget that horrible morning out in front 
of the Plummer warehouse when all her love had 
blazed into hatred and she had thrown his ring 
(that cherished little ring!) into his face and 
fled? 

“No!” she whispered fiercely, “if I took up 
with him again it would be only to save my pride 
before the girls in the shop and the town. It 
would do that, of course. Folks would say, 'a 
lover’s tiff, t'hat was all/ instead of ‘he threw 
her over for a prettier girl/ ” 

But she knew, now, that she would hate in 
place of loving him, and to marry a man whom 
you hate and fear merely to save your pride is 
too great a price to pay. 

“But many a girl does it,” Susan reflected. 

She dozed off thinking of the touch of Lieu¬ 
tenant Klatz’s hand upon her sleeve when she 
had stumbled that morning. 

Lieutenant Klatz! Funny, how different he 
was from good old Willie Klatz who had thought 
so much of her once on a time. Willie would 
never tire of a girl whom he had once loved, and 
yet—he had done just that, hadn’t he? Hadn’t 
he tired of her the same as Jeff Plummer had 
tired of her? 

Susan slept quite soundly until long after the 
lunch hour. She awoke to the sound of Coli- 


i 4 8 iTHE GREEN EYED ONE 

nette’s voice, and what Colinette said was so 
queer, Susan thought she must still be more or 
less asleep and had dreamed the words. 

“Sound asleep, and pale enough to serve our 
purpose.” 

What did she mean by that? “Pale enough 
to serve our purpose?” But she would not ask 
questions; not if the moon fell out of the sky— 

She was off again, this time for a nice long 
nap. 

When she came to Herself the second time she 
had a queer fancy that the outside room was 
full of people. She got up, smoothed her hair, 
opened the door and found it even so. At least 
there were four persons in the little private sit¬ 
ting room, and that came near to filling it. There 
were Grandmother Gard, Colinette, Willie, and— 

“Why Ma Dunlap!” she called out, “how did 
you get here?” 

“Dear girl!” trembled Mrs. Dunlap and came 
and took Susan in her arms and kissed her. 

“You see she’s better the minute you get here!” 
triumphed Colinette. “Just the minute she hears 
your voice, up she gets quite herself. Now Aunt 
Susan, you must stay with us. We need you, 
and it will do you good too. Now will you? 
You can see easily that it is going to take us all 
to pull this girl through. Besides, grandmother 
can’t stay, and we must have someone to chape- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


149 

rone us. It wouldn’t be just right to be traveling 
off alone with a desperate character like the lieu¬ 
tenant here. If you don’t stay with us the trip 
must be given up and Sue taken back again to 
the grind.” 

“But Luther won’t understand—” began Mrs. 
Dunlap. 

“I’ll explain to him,” promised Mrs. Gard. 

“And explain,” added Colinette, “that it will be 
useless to try to reach us because we shall travel 
rapidly from one place to another, and can’t wait 
to receive mail at any given address.” 

“Well, the moon has fallen out of the sky and 
is bowling along our path,” sighed Susan, “bowl¬ 
ing right along like a cartwheel, but I haven’t 
said a word, have I?” 

Mrs. Dunlap turned a startled glance upon her 
daughter. At that moment she believed Susan 
to be a very sick girl. 

“You’ve been wonderful,” owned Colinette. 

The next morning they saw Mrs. Gard off for 
home. 

“I do wish you felt that you could stay,” 
mourned Susan, as they waited at the station 
for the train. 

“I can’t,” replied Mrs. Gard. “I never have 
been hard-hearted where chickens are concerned, 
and I wouldn’t leave a wooden chicken for Elmer 
Dunlap to look after.” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


150 

Colinette pressed close to her grandmother’s 
shoulder as she mounted the car steps. “Remem¬ 
ber, grandmother/’ she whispered, “you are to 
have the rheumatism this summer if you ever 
expect to have it. Uncle Luther has always been 
looking forward to your having it; now let it 
overtake you while we are away. Tell him you 
are too old and lame to cook for him and El¬ 
mer. Let ’em coax Aunt Rinthy to help them 
out, or let them do their own cooking. You 
promise?” 

“Yes,” replied grandmother, and hurried to her 
place in the car. 

Colinette called up to her window as the train 
moved out, “We shall be good and lost—lost— 
You’ll be sorry you didn’t stay with us. Grand¬ 
mother shook a handkerchief at her and the train 
puffed away. 

Shortly after, bowling along under a blue, blue 
sky, the motoring party left Little Clyde miles 
to the southward. Colinette again occupied the 
seat beside the driver, Mrs. Dunlap curling up in 
a happy little bundle on the back seat beside her 
big daughter, and enjoying every inch of the ride. 

“Ain’t it wonderful how T we fly along!” she 
exclaimed, “and ain’t Willie a wonderful driver?” 

“He is,” assented Susan absent-mindedly. 
“How did you come to—that is, how did you 
know how to find us?” 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“The telegram said I was to meet you at Little 
Clyde.” 

“Were you scared when you got the message?” 

“Scared? I nearly fainted away. Luther 
wa’n’t home when the boy brought it up. I left 
word with the Klatzes where I had gone and 
started right off; I had to in order to make the 
train. I had to borrow my car fare of Mrs. 
Klatz. What I can’t understand is how you 
come to get better so quick. You was so bad 
yesterday, and now able to ride out like this.” 

“One has their ups and downs in sickness,” 
suggested Susan vaguely. • 

“Now that you are better, I ought to get back 
home as soon as I can, I s’pose.” 

“If you go we shall have to go too. And oh, 
how I hate to go back, ma! Seems to me pa 
might better be put to a little inconvenience in 
order to help me get entirely well. Don't you 
think so?” 

“I don’t know but I do, lookin’ at it in that 
way.” 

“Was—Elmer home when you left?” 

“Just got in, and as hungry as any hunter ever 
could be. Aunt Rinthy and Helen came home 
from Milltown too. Aunt Rinthy was awful dis¬ 
appointed.” 

“To hear that I was worse?” 

“She didn’t mention that although, of course, 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


152 

she’d hate to hear it, but she wanted to show me 
Helen’s new things. She said they was perfectly 
gorgeous. She said they would probably take a 
little sprint in their car and join us—that is, if 
you got better and stayed out any time. 

“When the boys got home Jeff brought Elmer 
right up in his car. I was glad you was away. 
He asked after you. He said they heard as they 
come up through town that you’d been awful sick. 
He was pretty well astonished to hear that you 
was off on a trip. He said, 'Guess we’ll have to 
take the gas wagon and tag along, Elmer.’ Your 
pa was mad. He said he thought it was up to 
Elmer to git back to work some time this summer; 
said he thought he’d had 'trippin’ ’ enough. But 
I bet some of 'em will go up to Little Clyde before 
many days. 

“My! These automobiles are wonderful 
things! Everybody goes everywhere they want 
to in no time. Now Jeff Plummer, or your Uncle 
Waldo won’t think no more of making a trip up 
to Little Clyde than we would have thought of 
driving up to Lake Jane when I was a girl. Just 
look at that little house; ain’t it pretty? Like a 
picture card. My, this is certainly restful!” 

Susan squeezed her mother’s hand and giggled 
in sheer delight. She began to forgive Colinette 
everything. For was not this Colinette’s doings 
—this outing for dear, overworked mother? 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


1 53 

Susan did a good deal of thinking during those 
flying miles. She came to a full realization of 
her foolishness in the matter of her quarrel with 
Jeff. She had been like a wounded animal, ready 
to attack the first object in her path, said object 
happening to be her pretty cousin. 

It must be true that Colinette had not cared 
for Jeff, for, if she had, there was nothing now 
to stand between them. And yet—when she re¬ 
membered certain fleeting glances which she had 
intercepted between them on that night of the 
dance, she could not understand Colinette. 

She watched Colinette and Willie in the seat 
ahead, and it certainly would have required a 
stretch of the imagination to discern anything 
loverlike in their attitude toward each other. 
Susan remembered those earnest, secret confabs 
between the two before starting on this trip; yet 
here, in the car, Willie’s mind seemed to be con¬ 
centrated on getting over as many miles as pos¬ 
sible between meals, and Colinette’s on some deep 
plan, not especially cheerful, for she was more 
than usually sober and silent. 

As to Susan herself, the complexities and 
perplexities of life were not in her line. They 
exhausted her. She wished to be able to keep 
her mind off Colinette, Willie, Jeff Plummer and 
the rest, but did not seem able to do so with any 
degree of success. But whatever her own or 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


154 

Colinette’s perplexities, hopes and fears, it was 
plainly evident that u ma” was enjoying this ride 
as she had never enjoyed anything before in 
Susan’s remembrance. 

They had traveled a long distance in silence 
when Colinette turned and inquired of Mrs. Dun¬ 
lap, “so Jeff and Elmer are going to hunt us 
down, are they? And Aunt Rinthy too? Well, 
we shall have to be wary. It will be fun dodging 
them.” 

“Well, we are a hundred and fifty miles nearer 
home than we were this morning,” Willie an¬ 
nounced. “If they undertake to trail us they’ll 
make clear round the road we’ve just come over, 
but they may take a tumble, cut across country 
and just chance on us.” 

Mrs. Dunlap gave it as her opinion that be¬ 
tween them all, with two cars on the road, they 
would be pretty sure to catch up and that before 
very long. 

“Oh dear!” sighed Susan. 

Colinette gave her a reassuring glance. “They 
haven’t caught us yet,” she reminded them. 


XII 


Mrs. Gard had what she considered the best of 
luck in getting home. The train was, if any¬ 
thing, ahead of time. This enabled her to gain 
her own door without meeting Dunlap, a Pick¬ 
ens, or even a Klatz. She decided to do what 
little cooking she needed to do on the oil stove 
so that no telltale plume of smoke should rise 
from her chimney. It would be as well for 
Luther to feel that young Susan was bad enough 
to need her grandmother as well as her mother, 
at least for a day. 

She got into one of her cool, faded, everyday 
dresses, changed her shoes for the familiar 
sloppy ones, the feel of which upon her feet gave 
her a thrill of home comfort which justified her 
stubbornness in not yielding to Colinette’s wish 
and staying with the tourists. Then she drew 
the patent rocker in from one of the windows to 
watch the supper folks go by. 

Helen Pickens first, her father a few moments 
later; then Luther Dunlap with a package of meat 
for his supper. She watched for Elmer, but 
Elmer did not put in an appearance. 

The smoke arose from the Dunlap chimney, 

155 


156 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

appraising the watcher of the progress Luther 
was making with his supper. Well, it would 
be good for Luther to cook his own steak for a 
while. 

After finally giving up Elmer, she went out 
into the kitchen, lighted the oil stove and cooked 
an egg and the two cold boiled potatoes left for 
this very occasion. 

How much she had seen since she had boiled 
those two potatoes; farmhouses and cows graz¬ 
ing in green pastures and little bridges over 
purling brooks; and patches of woodland with 
fields of yellowing grain or rustling corn in rows 
between; how many machines they had met, or 
overtaken, or failed to overtake; and villages, 
and Little Clyde with its pretty houses and bustle 
of business. Bigger and more cityfied, of course, 
than Redmoon, but wasn’t it fine to be back in 
Redmoon and in her own quiet kitchen! 

She did hope her daughter would be enabled 
to enjoy a little of the pleasures of travel before 
they caught and brought her back to slavery. 
Poor Susan, who had never seen cities or villages, 
or ridden on the cars or in automobiles. 

Mrs. Gard herself had, once upon a time, been 
surfeited with towns and steam cars and hotels. 
That was when she had been “on tour” with 
Colinette and Neal Brackley and the doll show. 
Young Susan went spring and fall to the city 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


H7 

for goods, but this was Susan Dunlap’s first 
vacation; her very first, and Mrs. Gard hoped 
fervently that it might at least stretch over three 
or four days. She hoped for no longer respite, 
for as soon as Luther learned that young Susan 
was out of danger he would insist upon his wife’s 
return. 

Susan could thank Colinette for this outing. 
Little minx! She certainly brought things about 
with that motto of hers. Trouble with that motto 
of Colinette’s was that it was so apt to cut short 
corners on other folks’ mottoes. For instance: 
‘Honesty is the Best Policy.’ Was starting out 
on a trip supposedly of two or three weeks’ dura¬ 
tion, yet leaving two cold boiled potatoes in the 
pantry, knowing they would not spoil before you 
came home to fry them—was that really fighting 
under the honesty banner? Mrs. Gard sighed. 

And now this rheumatism to which she was 
committed. She felt of a joint or two in hopes 
of discovering a little soreness or stiffness, such 
as should have been hers by right at her time of 
life, but found nothing approaching rheumatism. 
She had prayed fervently to be kept from sick¬ 
ness in order to be of service to those she loved, 
and her prayer had been graciously answered. 
Was she to turn about now and pray for rheuma¬ 
tism? 

She decided that this was not necessary. “But 


158 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

there is this much about it, I will not tell whop¬ 
pers/' said Grandmother Gard aloud. “I will do 
the best I can with what-do-yeh-call-’ems—eva¬ 
sions, but I will not lie." 

She slept in Redmoon that night without a 
soul dreaming of her presence in the town. She 
ate her meals and did a little surreptitious clean¬ 
ing up, enjoying the thrills of a boy who steals 
apples he doesn't want just for the excitement 
of keeping from being caught. Once a peddler 
knocked at the door, and once the telephone rang 
—undoubtedly a summons from some church sis¬ 
ter unaware of her absence. 

At night, after the six o’clock train had disap¬ 
peared on its way out of Redmoon, a plume of 
smoke arose from her chimney; her doors and 
windows stood open once more to let out the 
strong smell of arnica which reeked within. 

Waldo Pickens and Luther Dunlap, walking 
up from town together, were the first to note 
the signs of occupancy in the Gard cottage. 
They hurried in. Mrs. Gard grasped a cane 
which she had placed handily beside the kitchen 
door and hobbled forth to meet them. 

“Well, well, now what’s the matter with you?" 
demanded Luther. 

“Rheumatism, eh?" triumphed Waldo. 

“I don't know what you’d call it," parried Mrs. 
Gard, “and I don’t know what a doctor would 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 159 

call it, but whatever it is, I wish I could git along 
without it.” 

“Rheumatism, that’s what it is,” said Waldo 
Pickens. 

4 ‘Well, you’ve always been expectin’ me to have 
it, ain’t you, Waldo?” Mrs. Gard let herself 
gingerly down into the patent rocker. 

“Yes, an’ now you’ve got it.” 

“There,” reflected Mrs. Gard, “Waldo’s done 
the job for me; he’s given me the rheumatism— 
just what I need—an’ not charged me a cent.” 

“And let me tell you something else,” went on 
Waldo, “once you git it, you’ve got it for good. 
You’ll never be free from it agin as long as you 
live. It will slip from once place to another, 
back, legs, shoulders, and then some fine day— 
heart, an’ there you be!” 

“I s’pose so,” assented Mrs. Gard cheerfully. 

“Well, I take it the girl is better or you wouldn’t 
be here,” said Luther Dunlap. 

“Oh I wasn’t much good to take care of the 
sick,” sighed Mrs. Gard, fondling the head of 
her cane. “Susan needed her ma.” 

“Is she down flat in bed again, same as she 
was before?” demanded Waldo. 

“She’s been flat in bed by spells,” owned Mrs. 
Gard. 

“She no business to have went,” declared 
Luther. “I knew from the first how it would 


i6o THE GREEN EYED ONE 

turn out. Now she can come back home and 
lay around all the rest of the summer and proba¬ 
bly not be able to go to the city for goods in 
September as she ought er.” 

“It was all nonsense,'’ agreed Waldo Pickens, 
“I could a told you that. Travelin’ round coun¬ 
try in an automobile is for well folks, an’ mighty 
well folks; ’t’ain’t for sick ones. Look what it’s 
done for Mother Gard, here.” 

“They’ll all git ride enough by the time they 
git home from Little Clyde,” said Luther. “Let’s 
see-e-e, how many miles is it to Little Clyde, 
Waldo?” 

“About two hundred, I guess.” 

“Well, the boys are there by this time. They’ll 
be rollin’ home by tonight. Why didn’t you wait, 
Mother Gard, an’ save carfare? Though of 
course you didn’t know before you started that 
the boys was cornin’.” 

“What boys?” asked Mrs. Gard, although she 
knew what boys well enough. 

“Oh, as soon as I got the word I sent Jeff an’ 
Elmer up after ’em. My wife no business to let 
young Susan sail off the way she done, an’ half 
sick as she was. And the place for my wife is 
home ’tendin’ to her business. When a person 
has something to do in this world the thing for 
them to do is to stay and tend to it. Of course 
a telegram that way—why, my goodness! I ex- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 161 

pected her to come back in her long box an’ 
nothin’ less. You say she was a good deal better 
when you left, didn’t you, Mother Gard? S’pose 
she’ll be able to travel today?” 

“Couldn’t tell you a thing about that,” replied 
Mrs. Gard in a discouraged voice, a tone which 
her son-in-law and Waldo Pickens attributed to 
the rheumatism, but which in reality was born 
of the knowledge that all the trickery and deceit 
of herself and of Colinette were, after all, to go 
for nothing. Undoubtedly the Susans were, even 
now, nearing the end of their holiday. Coming 
home in Jeff Plummer’s car, too! Very likely 
Jeff and Susan would make up their quarrel, and 
be married some time during the summer just 
as had been originally planned. 

Well, it was just another proof of the tangled 
web we weave when first we practice to deceive. 
But poor young Susan! And so near to getting 
rid of that Plummer critter for good! Well, we 
were all in the hands of One who knew what was 
best for us after all. Perhaps it was the Lord’s 
will that Susan should have that Plummer boy 
for a husband. Better girls had married worse 
men, of course, and it wasn’t for us poor dying 
worms to judge. Still, if it could have been fixed 
up some other way, how nice it would have been! 

Mrs. Gard was roused from her revery by 
Luther’s insistent demand to be told young Su- 


162 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


san’s symptoms in detail. She realized that she 
was about to enter deep water upon which her 
raft of entire truthfulness was like to be wrecked, 
or at the least, was in for a stormy passage. 
For the first time she was glad to see Rinthy 
Pickens appear at her door. 

“Well for the land!” ejaculated that lady, 
“when did you git back?” And then, without 
waiting for a reply, “how’s Susan Taylor?” 

Mrs. Gard opened her mouth to reply. It was 
getting pretty thick. She might have managed 
one at a time, but all three this way— 

But she was spared. At that moment a dusty 
automobile turned the Pettingill corner and 
whirled to a stop before her door. From it 
alighted Elmer and Jeff Plummer. The two old 
men inside the house jumped up and met the two 
young men on the porch. All four spoke as with 
one voice: 

“Where are the girls?” 

“Didn’t you git ’em?” demanded Luther Dun¬ 
lap. 

“Why no. Ain’t they home ?” asked Jeff Plum¬ 
mer in a disappointed voice. 

“Home!” shouted Luther, “why should they be 
home? Didn’t you find ’em in Little Clyde?” 

“No, the hotel man s'aid they started for home 
about noon yesterday.” 

“Sick girl and all?” questioned Waldo Pickens. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 163 

“Sick girl and all,” answered Jeff Plummer, 
and added inanely, “haven’t they got in yet?” 

“This is a pretty kettle of fish!” put in Aunt 
Rinthy. “Broke down on the road sum’mers I 
bet, and with Susan Taylor in the state she’s in 
they’ll have to put up in some hotel, -and that’ll 
run into a nice sum of money.” 

“Guess Elmer an’ I will have to go right up to 
your house to supper,” suggested Luther Dunlap. 
“I can manage for myself alone, but I can’t cook 
for a hull boardin’-house.” 

“Oh my stars! There ain’t a thing in my 
house to eat, Luther. Waldo and I are plannin’ 
to take a trip in our car for a few days, and we’ve 
just been eatin’ from hand to mouth so as not to 
leave stuff in the pantry to dry up. But, of 
course, if you an’ Elmer are a mind to take pot 
luck, why I s’pose you can come.” 

“Guess I’ll stay here an’ feed with gram’ma,” 
remarked Elmer loftily. 

“You’ll fare hard here,” warned Mrs. Gard. 
“I’ve just come home, and I don’t feel to git about 
an’ cook. Can’t you an’ your pa kindah rig up 
somethin’ appetizin’ for yourselves between you?” 

“Oh well, we *can go up to Aunt Rint-hy’s I 
suppose,” conceded Elmer ungraciously, “but it’s 
chow for me and that pretty soon, let me tell you. 
I’m about starved. Jeff and I fed pretty light on 
the way down, didn’t we, Jeff?” 


164 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

Jeff made no reply. He stood sulkily by the 
door thumbing his cap. He “had no use for 
Elmer Dunlap” at best, and tonight he was not 
in a mood to “baby” anybody. What he wanted 
more than anything else was to “beat that Willie 
Klatz, who seemed bent on doing a smart turn 
just because he had hold of a car wheel for the 
first time in his life!” 

“I guess it won’t impovrish you to feed us this 
night,” Luther snapped at his sister, “the folks 
will surely be home before dinner tomorrow, and 
I’m thinkin’ they’ll be bowling in here yet tonight 
some time. Nice silly business! I don’t see what 
possessed Susan to go ranting off to wait on a 
girl who ain’t so bad but that she can git up an’ 
go a automobiling the next day. Huh! You 
say, boys, the hotel man said they had started for 
home in the morning?” 

“That’s what he said,” answered Jeff sulkily 
and went out, got into his car and wheeled away 
homeward. 

Aunt Rinthy would have stayed to “pump 
Gram’ma Gard,” but with the prospect of so 
much company to supper the pumping operations 
had to be postponed until the next day. 

The next day Mrs. Gard sat calmly in her 
patent rocker by the 'front window knitting on 
her bedspread. Knitting a bedspread is not sum¬ 
mer work, but how can a woman with the 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 165 

rheumatism weed flowerbeds or harvest berries? 

Nor did Elmer or Luther Dunlap call in to 
inquire if there was anything they could do to 
help. Rinthy Pickens came down and did her 
pumping with most unsatisfactory results. All 
she succeeded in finding out was that “Susan had 
gone to bed, and that she had been awful tickled 
to see her mother. ” 

Aunt Rinthy remarked repeatedly that “this 
was pretty kettle of fish!” these piscatorial as¬ 
sertions being elicited by the fact that she did 
not enjoy Elmer and Luther as steady boarders. 

“They’ve just got to shuffle along for them¬ 
selves,” she declared, “It won’t hurt ’em.” 

“Oh my, no,” agreed Mrs. Gard cheerfully, “it 
won’t hurt ’em a mite. Elmer always did over¬ 
eat. Now perhaps he won’t relish his own 
cookin’ enough to fatten up on it to any great 
extent. He ain’t got any regular job; been out 
huntin’—one thing or another—all summer, it’ll 
do him good to cook his own and his pa’s meals 
for a change.” 

“On the other hand,” Rinthy felt it her duty 
to remind Susan’s mother, “it seems to me that 
Susan Dunlap’s place is home with her family, 
and not galavantin’ round the country in a car.” 

“A little vacation won’t hurt her, no more’n it 
will hurt Elmer to do the cookin’. She never 
has had a vacation, Rinthy, if you can call goin’ 


166 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

I 

to take care of a sick girl a vacation. If some¬ 
one should telegraph you that Helen was sick and 
wanted you, I guess you’d go, wouldn’t you?” 

“The goin’ was all right; it’s the stayin’ that’s 
kickin’ up the muss,” said Aunt Rinthy. “But I 
s’pose they’ll be in today.” 

Aunt Rinthy “s’posed” wrong. They were not 
“in today,” nor the next, nor the next. Grand¬ 
mother Gard received a letter with a postmark 
blurred beyond deciphering, announcing that Su¬ 
san was so much better they had decided to tour 
around for a few weeks until she had entirely re¬ 
covered. The note was from Colinette. 

“Don’t try to write us,” she cautioned, “be¬ 
cause we shall stop at no postoffices for a while. 
We just mean to be good and lost. The trip is 
doing Aunt Susan no end of good. Tell Uncle 
Luther this. He will be pleased I’m sure.” 

“Pleased!” howled Uncle Luther, when the 
news was broken to him, “pleased! I wonder 
if she think’s I’m pleased at starvin’ to death! 
Pleased in a pig’s eye! You should have seen 
our breakfast this mornin’! Elmer said he was 
sick of bread, and so he made some gems. You 
could have brained Goliath with ’em. Elmer is 
an awful cook. He’s better on the hunt, an’ 
that’s where he’s goin’—right off, too. He an’ 
Jeff are goin’ to cover the hull state, but they’re 
goin’ to run down Willie Klatz and the bunch! 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 167 

Why, good land! Mother Gard, you oughter 
have help in your condition—so lame you can't 
hobble out to the henhouse after an egg." 

“Oh I'm makin’ out all right," said Mrs. Gard 
cheerfully, “I wouldn't have 'em shorten their 
trip on my account." 

“Well, it's on your account that the boys are 
sailin' out just the same. They’re goin' to hunt 
out the crowd and tell ’em they ought to be 
ashamed of themselves—ridin’ around the coun¬ 
try an’ you here sick abed and no one to do a 
turn for you." 

“Oh they know that you an' Elmer will look 
after me all right," said Mrs. Gard, and her son- 
in-law glanced at her askance to determine 
whether she meant it, or was trying to be 
sarcastic. 


XIII 

Luther Dunlap and Jeff Plummer were entirely 
agreed upon one point at least, the immediate 
running down of Willie Klatz and his load. 

“We can get over the ground a good deal 
faster than Willie can make it,” Jeff assured his 
sympathizer. “I know every mile of the good 
roads, and I know pretty well the route they’ll 
follow. They’ll do what’s called the big circle. 
Everybody does.” 

“You can’t count on their doin’ what anybody 
else does,” Luther warned him. “John Gard’s 
girl will do the contrary thing every time. I 
wish I’d had the bringin’ up of the young lady; 
I bet I’d a taken some of the conceit out of her.” 

The two young men started out upon their 

trailing expedition primed with authoritative 

messages concerning Mrs. Gard’s health, none of 

which emanated from Mrs. Gard herself. That 

lady went contentedly about her household duties, 

moving with her wonted swiftness when alone, 

but grasping her cane the moment a step sounded 

on the porch. After dusk she even managed 

some garden work, especially that which she dare 

not turn over to the Reedy boy. Every day she 

168 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 169 

declined invitations from the Pickenses, or from 
Luther Dunlap himself to help along a little with 
Luther’s cooking, but not once had she failed in 
keeping her promise to Colinette. 

“For you know where it will lead you if you 
yield an inch,” Colinette had warned. “First a 
loaf of bread, then 'guess I’ll have to take sup¬ 
per with you tonight, Mother Gard,’ then billeted 
on you for keeps. It is up to you and me to 
look after the Susans a little.” This last argu¬ 
ment had fastened the dread disease of rheu¬ 
matism upon Mrs. Gard and put dimes into the 
flabby pockets of the Reedy boy. 

One morning Mrs. Gard arose with an avid 
longing to give the house a thorough “redding 
up.” Of course she had “muddled about” shak¬ 
ing a rug of dusting a little here and there—al¬ 
ways with her stick within reach—but a thorough 
soap-and-water scrubbing had not been known in 
that house since her return from her jaunt. 

“And—I just can’t stand it,” she declared to 
herself. “I’ll go kindah wary till they all put 
out for work, then I’ll set that old cane within 
grabbin’ distance and wade in. That kitchen 
floor will be surprised, I’ll bet a cookie. I never 
before had such a dusty, musty, mossy-lookin’ 
old house as I’ve got this minute.” 

In order to make ready for this saturnalia she 
planned an extra hearty breakfast for herself. 



170 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


She even made a cautious trip into the garden 
after a handful of crisp young onions. 

“And I hope Eli know enough to git ’em out 
of sight if anybody drops in. Luther would 
think that if I was able to go scoutin’ round the 
garden for onions I might do a little cookin’ for 
him.” 

She was putting the last pearly onion with its 
mates into a glass tumbler when a rushing step 
on the porch alarmed her. She hastily thrust 
the glass into the cupboard out of sight, grasped 
her stick and went to meet her caller. 

It was Gusta Klatz on her way to the millinery 
store. She wore an expression of almost fiendish 
triumph as she stepped inside of Mrs. Gard’s 
door and closed it behind her. 

“Ain’t it great!” she triumphed, “they can’t 
find ’em anywhere. Mr. Dunlap is just a jaw¬ 
ing! He got a letter yesterday from Elmer. It 
seems that they found the machine laid up in a 
garage for repairs, but not a trace of the folks. 
He’s trying to make ma believe they’ve all been 
murdered. He almost had ma buffaloed for one 
while, but I told her not to worry. Willie will 
take care of Susan and her mother, and if he can’t, 
why Colinette can. I just thought I’d run in and 
tell you so he wouldn’t scare you to death. Maybe 
he doesn’t intend to say a word to you about it 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 171 

for fear of your worrying. Maybe he thinks 
he’ll wait until Jeff and Elmer finds some trace 
of ’em. Well, I must run along and open shop. 
I’m all alone now. Helen isn’t working nowdays. 
She’s busy getting her mother ready for her 
automobile trip and herself ready for the Gertie 
Calkins’ wedding. The cards are out, and every¬ 
body is excited over it. They say it is to be a 
grand affair.” 

Gusta tripped away and Mrs. Gard thought¬ 
fully replaced her little grove of onions on the 
kitchen table. 

More steps—Helen, this time. Once more the 
onions were whisked out of sight. 

“Good morning, gram’ma. Isn’t this terrible ?” 

“Mercy! Helen, what has happened?” Mrs. 
Gard sank into a chair and motioned Helen to 
another one which she refused. 

“Hasn’t Uncle Luther told you about the letter 
he got yesterday?” 

“Ain’t seen your Uncle Luther for a number 
of days. What about the letter? I do hope 
Susan ain’t worse!” 

“No, but the boys have found the machine that 
Willie Klatz drove away, but 110 Willie Klatz, no 
Sue, no Colinette, no Aunt Susan. Now what¬ 
ever do you suppose has become of them? ’ 

“Where did they find the machine? And how 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


172 

do they know it was the car Willie was driving? 
And did Willie leave the car at the place where 
they found it?” 

“The car,” began Helen impressively, “was 
left at a garage for repairs by a rough looking 
fellow who didn't answer the description of Willie 
Klatz at all. Pa thinks that some highway rob¬ 
ber has shot Willie and stolen the car. Why, our 
folks are just all wrought up over it! Aren’t 
you all wrought up over it, gram’ma?” 

“I s’pose I ought to be,” replied Mrs. Gard, 
“but somehow I ain’t. I was just goin’ to eat my 
breakfast; won’t you set up an’ have a cup of 
coffee, Helen?” 

“No thank you, ma is getting breakfast at 
home now. I ran down to see what you thought 
about this letter. Ma and pa are just all wrought 
up over it, and they supposed that you would be.” 

“Oh I guess the folks are all right. Colinette 
would let us know if anything was amiss.” 

“Why, Colinette may be lying out along some 
lonely country road shot through the heart— 
that’s what pa says.” 

“Of 'course she may, but I guess somebody 
would have found some of ’em by this time; so 
many folks out in automobiles nowadays. If 
Colinette is shot, why Willie Klatz and my Susan 
and young Susan must all be shot and piled up 
together. They’d make quite a stack that way. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 173 

Some farmer or other would be pretty sure to 
notice it—pile of shot folks like that—” 

“Why Grant ma Gard, how can you talk so—so 
flippantly about such awful things!” 

“Well, all we can do is to wait till we hear 
from some of ’em/’ said Mrs. Gard cheerfully. 
“How’s work gittin’ along in the store?” 

“I’m not in the store just now; I’m staying 
home to get ready for Gertie’s wedding—” 
“Shouldn’t think you’d feel to think of weddin’s 
and such fixings when your relations are lost and 
robbed and murdered this way.” 

Helen was annoyed. “But I’m young; I can’t 
give up life just because Colinette and Willie 
Klatz have gone off and got themselves into 
some terrible scrape. But you and pa and ma—” 
“Your pa and ma worrying pretty bad, are 
they?” 

“They are going out to join in the search. Pa 
says he’ll find Aunt Susan and the rest of the 
bunch if they’re anywhere this side of the Rocky 
Mountains. They start tomorrow morning early. 
Pa intended to take a trip somewhere anyway, 
and he says he intends to show Colinette Gard 
and Willie Klatz that they can’t run out and 
hide in this day and age. He says they’ll find 
out other folks have cars, and know how to run 
’em, even if they didn’t learn how in France. 
Oh, pa’ll find ’em, don’t you fret!” 


i 7 4 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“I sha’n’t fret,” promised Mrs. Gard. “Pm 
trusting in the Lord to bring my child and my 
grandchildren and Willie Klatz home all safe 
and sound. They started out for a good purpose, 
and I have faith to believe they’ll accomplish it 
an’ come home in good time.” 

“But don’t you think Aunt Susan is awful 
foolish to go off galavanting this way?” 

“It seems your pa an’ ma are goin’ off gal- 
avantin’ tomorrow.” 

“Oh, well, going to hunt her up.” 

“But you said your pa intended to take a trip 
anyway.” 

“Oh—well—yes—but—well, I must run home; 
ma said I wasn’t to stay. You ought to come 
up, gram’ma, and see my new dress; it’s perfectly 
lovely! Colinette better hurry home or she will 
lose the chance to be Gertie’s bridesmaid. Gertie 
told me so herself. Jeff Plummer is to be best 
man, you know.” 

Helen went away, and Mrs. Gard thoughtlessly 
left her cane leaning against the patent rocker 
when she went out to resume getting breakfast. 
She had just reinstated the onions, and taken 
down the skillet to fry the potatoes, when Luther 
Dunlap arrived with the letter. He did not stop 
to knock, but with the privilege of close relation¬ 
ship, walked through the living room and ap- 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 


175 

peared in the kitchen door just one second after 
a tumblerful of green onions had disappeared 
under the table. 

“Hullo,” he greeted, “well, how you makin’ 
it?” 

“Pretty slow,” owned Mrs. Gard truthfully. 
“Pretty slow. Pm real glad you dropped in, 
Luther. Pm goin’ to ask you to fill my woodbox 
while you’re here, and bring me that swatch of 
bacon out of the woodhouse, and—” 

Luther looked at his watch. “Pll git you some 
wood and the bacon, but Pve got to be to work 
in half an hour. You’ll have to wait for other 
errands till I git home tonight. I should think 
Llelen could drop down here and do such things 
for you on a pinch, or Mrs. Klatz. Pll speak 
to Mrs. Klatz tonight. But Pve got something 
to show you here—” 

He drew out and unfolded the letter with great 
ceremony. Mrs. Gard took it from him and read 
it. Dunlap seemed rather to expect her to fall 
in a faint. She folded the letter and handed it 
back. 

“Broke down, have they?” she remarked pleas¬ 
antly. 

Luther had hard work to restrain his indigna¬ 
tion at her reception of the news. “What do 
you think has happened ’em?” 


176 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“Nothing very bad, Luther. I think they’ve 
busted their automobile and are waiting some¬ 
where till it is fixed.” 

Luther snorted. “Well, we’ll soon know. 
Waldo and Rinthy are starting out tomorrow 
mornin’ early to find ’em, and I’m goin’ with ’em! 
Yes sir, we’re goin’ to track ’em down. If we 
happen on ’em before the boys do I’ll bet the boys 
will feel pretty green.” 

“Well do tell, Luther!” ejaculated Mrs. Gard. 

“We’re a goin’ to find ’em, and we’re a goin’ 
to tell ’em what we think of ’em—ridin' off round 
the country and leavin’ you here sick an’ not able 
to help yourself—” 

“Now see here, Luther, you needn’t tell ’em 
anything of the kind. Because I’m gittin’ along 
splendid. I want ’em to stay and finish their 
vacation. I want young Susan to git well and 
strong so she can go to the city for goods when 
the time comes. Yes, an’ I want Susan Dunlap 
to git her vacation too. You must, remember, 
Luther, she’s never had one before—” 

“Vacation! What does a woman, who sets 
round a house all day with nothin’ to do except 
to eat and shove back, need of a vacation? Va¬ 
cation! Humph!” 

Luther stumped off home in high dudgeon, and 
Mrs. Gard sighed as she reached under the table 
for her onions. 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


177 

“Poor Susan!” she murmured. “A man like 
Luther Dunlap is almost worse to be married to 
than a really bad man. If he was really bad—beat 
her or swore at her—she could do something 
about it. But the law can’t touch a nagger.” 

Mrs. Gard hastily tucked her onions back 
again as other steps sounded at her door. She 
assumed her cane and her hobble and opened the 
door to her visitor. A small, sour-visaged, well- 
dressed woman stood without. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Plummer. Come in,” 
invited Mrs. Gard. 

Mrs. Plummer stepped inside with the air of 
crabbed condescension which was one of the 
causes of her unpopularity above the railroad. 
She had come to inquire where Miss Gard or 
Miss Dunlap could be reached by letter or by 
wire. She had understood that her son Jefferson 
and the Dunlap boy were—wherever Miss Gard 
and Miss Dunlap were, and she wished to get into 
immediate communication with her son. Jeffer¬ 
son had consented to be Dr. Snyder’s best man 
at his approaching marriage. The cards were 
out and it was necessary to let Jefferson know. 

She clipped her lips together with great pre¬ 
cision as she gave forth these important facts, 
and her beady little black eyes snapped. 

Mrs. Gard heard her through placidly then 
said she was unable to furnish the desired in- 



178 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

formation because she didn’t know where her 
granddaughters were. 

“You don’t mean that your granddaughter— 
the pretty one, is away on a camping trip and 
that you don’t know where she is?” Mrs. Plum¬ 
mer’s tone was meant to convey to Mrs. 
Gard how very ignorant she was in regard to 
the conventionalities, not to say decencies of 
society. 

“Colinette,” replied Mrs. Gard, “is smart 
enough to take care of herself wherever she is. 
As you perhaps remember, she and I traveled 
with our show for over a year, and after that 
she lived in New York a good spell and durin’ the 
War she was a canteen worker over in France. 
She’s just naturally sharp, you know, an’ don’t 
need an old woman standin’ over her with a stick 
to keep her straight. But if she did, my daugh¬ 
ter, Mrs. Dunlap, is with the party, wherever 
they are, and Willie Klatz is with ’em, and the 
Lord is with ’em to care for and to bless, for 
I’ve asked Him to look after the hull crowd, and 
I have faith to believe that He will. You see, 
Colinette is really safer’n usual.” 

“We must get in touch with them on account 
of this wedding,” reiterated Mrs. Plummer. 
“Gertie Calkins is wild—just wild—about their 
all being gone. She expects Miss Gard to be her 
bridesmaid, doesn’t she?” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


179 

f T don’t know; Colinette never said anything 
about it.” 

‘‘Oh, then I presume I’m mistaken. Because 
if Gertie Calkins had asked your granddaughter 
to be her bridesmaid you would certainly have 
heard something about it.” 

She rose to go, and Mrs. Gard was glad that 
the call was to be short. She was growing keen 
for her breakfast. But her troubles were not 
at an end. As she stood at the door to watch 
Mrs. Plummer mince down the front walk she 
descried Rinthy Pickens’ sun hat looming in the 
west. She gripped her cane securely and awaited 
the onslaught. 

Mrs. Pickens had come to borrow her traveling 
bag for her jaunt. She asked what message she 
should carry to Colinette from her. 

“Providing you find her, you may tell her I’m 
all right exceptin’ a little touch of—well, you 
might call it rheumatism; I don’t know what else 
to call it.” 

“I don’t think you need hunt another name,” 
replied Aunt Rinthy with one of her flat smiles. 
“And you needn’t fear but what we’ll find her. 
When Waldo sets out to do a thing he generally 
does it. He is real peeved, Waldo is, at the way 
they’ve been actin’. He says it’s a pretty kettle 
of fish—actin’ this way—and somebody else 
havin’ to do their cookin’. They ain’t been a 



i8o THE GREEN EYED ONE 

day since they went that Luther or Elmer, one 
or t’other, ain’t been to our house for meals. 
’Course, if you hadn’t been laid up this way you 
might at least have took Elmer off my hands. 
I don’t mind Luther so much, but Elmer is a 
pest, I will say that. 

“And Gertie Calkins is just at her wits’ end 
to know what to do! Colinette, you know—her 
bridesmaid, and Jeff Plummer—why, it’s a pretty 
kettle of fish!” 

After Mrs. Pickens had started up the hill on 
her way home Mrs. Gard locked the door and 
hurried to the kitchen without the sign of a limp. 
She discarded her cane with an impatient little 
bump, stooped and drew forth her onions and 
plumped them into the middle of the table with 
a bang which nearly broke the glass which held 
them. 

“There you are, an’ there you're a goin’ to set 
till I eat you!’’ she scolded. “They’ve all been 
here now except Waldo Pickens, and if he comes 
he’ll have to pound to git in, and I’ll have time 
to fix things before I let him in—” 

Knuckles on the front door, insistent knuckles, 
knuckles which told of a determination not to be 
denied. 

She went to the door very slowly. She wished 
to be slow. She wished to be provoking. She 
wished to keep him waiting as long as she dare. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 181 

She opened the door, then gave a little cry of 
welcome. Her stick rolled unheeded to the floor 
while she grasped the caller around the neck and 
planted a hearty kiss upon either cheek. 


XIV 


The visitor so warmly welcomed by Mrs. Gard 
was a young man with the tanned face, closely 
cropped hair, and eager, seeking eyes of the re¬ 
turned soldier—Captain Neal Brackley. 

Mrs. Gard brought forth the “other rocking- 
chair.” Captain Brackley sank into it with a 
tired slump and let his eyes roam about the homely 
old room which he knew so well. His whole at¬ 
titude spoke of fatigue, or so it appeared to Mrs. 
Gard. 

“And so you are just home from the wars, 
Neal?” said Mrs. Gard. 

“Just home, grandmother, and yours has been 
my first welcome. Poor little mother is still sick 
in Florida. Father is there with her and I am 
going from here, but—I had to come here first, 
you see, to look after the place and—well to see 
you and Colinette and all—but of course you ex¬ 
pected me.” 

“Only that somebody said that a man was 
workin’ in the Brackley yard gittin’ it ready for 
the family.” 

“But I wrote Colinette that I was coming. 
She must have received the letter at least a month 
ago.” 


182 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 183 

A dim remembrance of that overseas letter 
which had caused so much disturbance in the 
neighborhood, the letter which Gusta Klatz had 
been so sure was from her brother, came to Mrs. 
Card’s mind. That letter had been the match 
to set the fire of anger which had licked up poor 
Susan’s romance. She remembered that just 
about that time Colinette had showed an uneasi¬ 
ness of mind, a vague unhappiness,-as if some se¬ 
cret anxiety weighed upon her. And so the letter 
had been from Neal Brackley to announce his 
coming! 

Why should such a letter from Neal make 
Colinette sad and uneasy, unless there had been 
some sort of an affair between her and Neal, 
an affair which she regretted and would rather 
forget? If this were not the case, why had she 
not shown the letter to her grandmother, and 
announced a bit of news which she knew would 
be welcome? Mrs. Gard adored Neal Brackley, 
and always had since the long tour which she and 
Colinette had made through the country with him 
and '‘The Kitty Candle Unmoving Picture Corn- 
pony,” as they had called their little puppet show. 
Neal had been nothing but a big, kindly boy then 
who played the piano wonderfully. Neal’s music 
was really the only part of the show which 
amounted to anything, Colinette had always said, 
and now Mrs. Gard knew it. Neal had never 


184 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

hinted at such a thing. Perhaps he did not know 
it. He had never displayed any of the arrogance 
of young masculinity toward his partners, the 
old woman and the young girl. Instead he had 
been their protector, their big brother, their gen¬ 
eral factotum. 

* 

Looking at those fine, steely brown fingers ly¬ 
ing along the arms of the “other rocking-chair,” 
Grandmother Gard remembered the thrill with 
which she always heard their first touch of the 
piano keys “down in front,” while she and Coli- 
nette stood nervously awaiting the beginning of 
their act; Colinette in her little green satin dress 
(Colinette was superstitious about wearing green; 
she believed she would change her luck if she 
changed the color of her stage dress) tense, 
watchful, and Mrs. Gard herself in a perspiration 
of anxiety, lest some of the little characters 
in the minature theatre should topple over 
as she hastily arranged them in the different 
tableaux, while Colinette out in front told the 
story. 

And the relief when, in the last tableau of all, 
Neal broke into the wild Irish jig which the little 
Irish men and women were supposed to be danc¬ 
ing. The sight of Neal Brackley there in the 
chair brought it all back to her vividly. 

“Where is Colinette?” asked Neal suddenly. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 185 

Mrs. Gard started. “I—don’t know where 
Colinette is.” 

“Don’t know—don’t know where she is, grand¬ 
mother ?” 

Mrs. Gard began to explain in a hurried, un¬ 
satisfactory manner. At the time it had all hap¬ 
pened there had seemed to be reason enough for 
Colinette’s plan; now, looking at it through Neal 
Brackley’s eyes, she could not help wondering if 
the letter had not played a greater part in Coli¬ 
nette’s flight and continued absence than either 
young Susan’s illness, or Susan Dunlap’s need of 
a vacation. 

The more Mrs. Gard attempted to explain the 
vagaries of Colinette’s proceedings, the more she 
felt herself at sea in regard to them. She saw 
bewildered disappointment in young Brackley’s 
face. 

“I have looked forward to this moment all 
through the horrible months,” he said. “I have 
dreamed nights of seeing Colinette again, and I 
have been glad that our meeting was to take place 
here in Redmoon, the town we both love. You 
see,” he smiled at Mrs. Gard, “I believed that she 
would be as glad to see me as I would have been 
to see her.” 

“She would be glad to see you, Neal,” Mrs. 
Gard assured him. “I wish to goodness I knew 


i86 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


where she was, I’d write to her to come along 
home. I’d tell her, 'Neal is here and wants to see 
you before he goes to Florida to his own folks.’ 
She’d come a flyin’; she always liked you.” 

"But—she knew I was coming and yet she ran 
away. She went away with—a man she likes 
better, evidently.” 

"You mean Willie Klatz?” 

"Yes. She has always been fond of him, I 
knew that, of course.” 

"He’s a good boy,” witnessed grandmother 
heartily. "Willie Klatz is as good as gold. 
Neal, I’d as soon see Colinette married to Willie 
Klatz as to anybody I know of except—maybe—” 

"Well, grandmother, say it,” demanded Neal, 
"except whom?” 

"You!” finished Mrs. Gard, and Neal sprang 
out of his chair, crossed over and elapsed her 
two hands in an almost painfully fervent grasp. 

"You dear woman!” he breathed. "You see, 
I’ve always sort of taken it for granted that Coli¬ 
nette belonged to me. All through those months 
in France I have been so cocksure that she 
wouldn’t run across anybody whom she would 
like better than she did me. The conceit of it, 
eh? And she surrounded by handsome young 
officers and heroes—but I forgot Willie Klatz.” 
He went back to "the other rocker.” "Tell me 
all about Willie Klatz, grandmother. You see, I 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


187 

still call you grandmother as you told me I might 
when we were on the road together with the 
show.” 

'‘Willie Klatz is a good deal improved.” 

“How could Willie be improved?” 

“I mean outside. Inside, Willie was all right 
when he went away. But he stands up straight 
now, and walks like a soldier instead of slouchin’ 
along like a farmer with a bushel of oats on his 
back. He’s straight and mighty good lookin’, 
Willie is. Nobody need be ashamed of Willie’s 
looks, I can tell you.” 

“He is a lieutenant, I understand.” 

“Yes. You should have seen the fuss the town 
made over him when he came back. Every auto¬ 
mobile in town at the depot—my, it was grand! 
And folks who never noticed Willie before he 
went away all crowding up to shake him by the 
hand; Gertie Calkins and the doctor’s daughter, 
an’ all. But—it ain’t Willie Klatz that I’m afraid 
of where Colinette is concerned.” 

“Who then?” 

“That pifflin’ Jeff Plummer; that’s the man I’m 
afraid she’s in love with.” 

“Oh, grandmother, you must be mistaken. She 
never liked Jeff Plummer, not even when she was 
a little girl.” 

“She didn’t, but girls change so when they 
grow up.” 


i88 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


Neal shook his head. “I can’t believe that.” 

“I couldn’t believe it nuther, until she just the 
same as told me so herself. And then the way 
she acted. Here Susan and Jeff were goin’ to¬ 
gether, engaged to be married, everything set for 
the weddin’ except the day an’ date—along comes 
Colinette, Jeff begins to slacken, begins to talk 
about postponin’ the weddin’, begins to hang 
around Colinette, dances with her, sticks around 
down at her paint shop till Aunt Rinthy Pickens 
and the hull town begin to talk, and Susan just 
tippin’ over sick with jealousy—(I’m tellin’ you 
this, Neal, just as I would tell my son John, 
knowin’ it will go no further). And then I made 
up my mind I’d take a hand. 

“I ups and at Colinette about fooling with 
Susan’s beau. I says, 'It ain’t fair, and it ain’t 
honest.’ She said she knew all that, but that she 
was workin’ by her own old original motto ‘When 
You Want a Thing, Go After It.’ I never was so 
got in my life. I knew then an’ there that Susan 
might as well hang up her fiddle an’ her bow where 
Jeff Plummer was concerned, because whoever 
Colinette happened to fancy for a husband she 
could git him if it was the president himself.” 

“But she has run away from Jeff Plummer; he 
is hunting for her, you say.” 

“That’s one of the reasons I’m scared of Jeff 
Plummer. A girl is everlastingly running away 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 189 

from the man she loves. You can’t fool me that 
way; I done it myself once. Trouble in my case 
was, the man never ran after me—didn’t even 
notice, really, that I had run away. So that ended 
the matter.” 

“That is rather encouraging to me, grand¬ 
mother, because I can’t help believing that Coli- 
nette ran away from me.” 

Mrs. Gard sighed. “Well, maybe so. But 
you might not feel so encouraged if you’d been 
1 ight here and seen what I have seen. Colinette 
is an awful dear good girl, but awful hard to un¬ 
derstand. As Mrs. Smith, the dressmaker, said 
once, that time she wanted the Chedder milliner 
store and Colinette popped right under her arm 
and bought it away from her, says she, ‘Colinette 
Gard is a hard person to cope with.’ And she 
told the truth. Colinette is hard to cope with 
and allers has been. But on the other hand, 
Colinette will do almost anything for a person 
she loves.” 

Captain Brackley gave grandmother a wry 
little smile. “That’s my hope and my despair,” 
he said. 

“I can do almost anything with her,” boasted 
Mrs. Gard, and Brackley grinned again, remem¬ 
bering grandmother’s success in doing what she 
willed with Colinette. 

“And now won’t you step into the kitchen an’ 



.igo THE GREEN EYED ONE 

eat a bite of breakfast with me?” invited Mrs. 
Gard. 

“No, thank you, I had my breakfast in Mill- 
town while I waited for my train.” 

“Well, I ain’t had mine yet. I’ve had so many 
callers this morning I ain’t had a chance to eat a 
bite.” 

Neal immediately dragged her into the kitchen, 
plumped her into her accustomed seat, and took 
his place at the opposite end of the table. He 
stretched his legs underneath and a glass jingled 
and toppled over. 

“What’s that?” he asked, diving to ascertain. 

“Them’s onions,” tittered Mrs. Gard, getting 
down on her side of the table and helping to 
gather up the scattered vegetables. “I’m fond 
of 'em, but this rheumatism of mine is supposed 
to keep me from goin’ into the garden an’ diggin’ 
’em for myself.’’ 

“You never used to be troubled with the rheu¬ 
matism.” 

“No, an’ I’m about sick of bein’ troubled with 
it now, an’ I don’t believe I’m goin’ to be much 
longer. I’d about as soon take care of Luther 
and Elmer as to run for that cane every time the 
latch clicks.” Mrs. Gard was going on to ex¬ 
plain her unique disease, but realizing that Cap¬ 
tain Brackley’s thoughts were far away, she de- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


191 

sisted and ate her breakfast, talking of trivial 
things until Neal rose to go. 

“And so you ain’t even goin’ to stay over night 
in Redmoon, or go to your own house or down 
to see Colinette’s picture of Uncle Picken’s back 
yard (such a queer thing to work on all spring), 
or see any of the folks?” 

“I think not. I meant only to make a flying 
visit; to say hello to my fellow members of the 
Kitty Candle Company. I mustn't neglect 
mother, you know. But—I wish you’d write me, 
grandmother, and tell me which man finds the 
wanderer. I have a theory that when Colinette 
gets good and ready to be found, the right man 
will be allowed to find her. You say the boys 
traced the party to Cambria where they found the 
car laid up for repairs?” 

“It was at a little town near Cambria, Lovejoy, 
by name, where they found the car, but no folks.’’ 

“Thank you, grandmother. Good-by, and be 
sure to write.” 

Mrs. Gard watched her visitor going slowly and 
thoughtfully down the hill in the direction of the 
railway station. She felt a rising anger in her 
heart towards Colinette. 

“Such a chance! Such a chance!” she mut¬ 
tered, “and to throw it away for—what? Is 
she really crazy after that—that Jeff Plummer? 


192 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


I have thought at times that she come of better 
stock than any Gard could boast, an 1 then agin— 
sometimes—I dunno—I guess all girls are about 
alike when it comes to failin’ in love. 

“And what a pity that they have to fall in love 
before they have any judgment; have to pick out 
their life partner when they ain’t got sense enough 
to pick out a pair of shoes to the best advantage! 

“An’ yet, up to this failin’ in love business, Coli- 
nette has shown such extra good sense in every¬ 
thing. She’s gone right plum agin my wants 
and wishes a number of times and come out 
ahead—showed that she was in the right. 

“Well, it takes me back to that Sidney Dish 
affair when I was young myself. I wanted Sid¬ 
ney, and John Gard wanted me—an’ got me. 
And it was a good thing he did, for Dish didn’t 
amount to a hill o’ beans. I knew he was a no 
account critter, but I’d a married him just the 
same if I had got the chance. 

“I thought if I disappeared a while Sidney 
would wake up to the fact that he couldn’t git 
along without me. So I coaxed ma to let me go 
over into Calumet County to visit Aunt Mary, 
and when I come back Sidney Dish was goin’ with 
Angeline Porter and they was married soon after 
that. 

“Dear me, how it all comes back! Well, my 
mother was a prayin’ woman, an’ Angelin’s wa’n’t, 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 


iQ3 

and maybe that’s the reason Angeline got Sidney 
Dish and I got John Gard. 

“And this reminds me, it ain’t my duty to carry 
Colinette and her doin’s on my shoulders all alone 
—I can’t do it— she’s too hard to cope with. I’ll 
turn the hull matter over to the Lord.” 

And so, although Captain Brackley opened the 
car window toward the west, and gazed back at 
the little gray house on the hill as his train swept 
out of Redmoon, he did not, as he had hoped to do, 
catch sight of a beloved old figure on the front 
porch or in the front door. The door was closed 
tightly and locked, while Mrs. Gard on her knees 
in the best bedroom prayed fervently for help and 
guidance in coping with Colinette. 


XV 


Lovejoy was a happy village, fond of excitement, 
but having little of it. In the winter there were 
the M. E. Christmas tree and concert, the Ladies’ 
Aid suppers, and the K. O. P. ball; in the summer, 
there was keeping track of stray motorists who 
left the regular route and came to grief on the 
execrable roads which surrounded the town, and 
were towed in to Hank Jensen’s garage for re¬ 
pairs. 

Last but not least were the gipsies. They were 
really the event of Lovejoy’s summer; its own par¬ 
ticular institution. Not only Lovejoy, but Cam¬ 
bria also drove out to Bennet’s sheep pasture—a 
particularly rough piece of ground—to have its 
fortune told. Such seekers after knowledge as 
came in cars usually unloaded at the roadside and 
made the rocky journey across the pasture on 
foot. But now and then a lady of eighty or so 
would drive a bony white horse and creaking 
buggy to the very margin of the stream on the 
further bank of which the gipsies pitched their 
tents. Here she would descend, totter across the 
little foot-bridge and cheerfully pay her dollar to 

ascertain what was in store for her. Everybody 

194 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


195 

came, of both sexes and all ages. Bennet’s pas¬ 
ture was a fat stand for gipsies. 

And Love joy knew how to treat gipsies. It 
did not allow its children and youths to pester 
them. It respected their not unreasonable' wish 
for seclusion. The most venturesome hesitated 
before crossing the foot-bridge uninvited. The 
tents were pitched just in front of the thick oak 
grove which bounded the Bennet pasture to the 
north. In former days the gipsies had forded 
the stream and driven their wagons and horses 
and live stock through the muddy water to the 
camping ground. Now they traveled by motor, 
like the rest of the world, and came in through 
Bennet’s north line fence which was immediately 
nailed up behind them. Therefore their public 
reached them as of old by way of the rocky pas¬ 
ture road and the foot-bridge. 

From this point of vantage the fortune tellers 
could watch the approach of a “prospect” from 
the time it left the main road by way of the pas¬ 
ture gate until its arrival at the foot-bridge. It 
would have been a dull gipsy indeed who could 
not have discovered something of the history of 
each individual in the groups as they approached 
the camp, their frank comments and high pitched 
laughter reaching the soothsayer long before they 
did themselves. A sharp-eared gipsy could often 
give to her astonished patrons not only the date 


196 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

of an approaching marriage, but the names of the 
contracting parties. 

This year the fortune telling had been more 
wonderful than ever before. The first intima¬ 
tion which Lovejoy received that her welcome 
guests had arrived was when a dark fellow with 
black eyes and snaky locks drove a motor car 
loaded with women and children through Main 
Street. One of his passengers was an extremely 
old woman, another a woman who appeared to 
be very ill, and there was a foolish child. The 
male gipsy had driven slowly to accommodate his 
speed to a bony old horse hitched behind his car. 
This animal he left with Hank Jensen to be taken 
care of until he should return for it which he did 
in exactly three days. He came back alone, this 
time, leaving his car with Jensen for repairs and 
riding the old horse out of town. 

Questioned as to why he was not staying at the 
usual camping ground in Bennet’s pasture, he 
returned surly answers intimating that although 
he and his sick wife were moving farther on to 
join another branch of their family encamped 
some forty miles to the westward, yet there were 
gipsies “of another tribe” staying as usual in 
Bennet’s pasture. 

This was all Lovejoy found out until it began 
to visit the camp. A party of young folks who 
were the first to go out brought back such glow- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


197 


ing accounts of the prowess of a certain young 
gipsy in the fortune-telling line that Rennet’s pas¬ 
ture road grew rougher and rougher from much 
travel. 

“That gipsy knows the very thoughts of your 
heart!” sighed one young girl, forgetting how 
she and her chum had talked over those thoughts 
in a loud tone as they stumbled along over the 
pasture road. 

No one knew exactly how many persons made 
up this encampment. Different ones thought 
there were at least three men, an elderly, thin 
little gipsy woman, and a tall, imperious one, be¬ 
side the skilful fortune-teller, Gipsy Moll, whose 
white tent crowded close to the edge of the brook 
(river, Lovejoy called the stream). 

Many had noticed one peculiarity about this 
camp; there were no ringboned and spavined 
horses, no dogs, no children anywhere in sight. 
The one tall gipsy who had passed through the 
town with his load seemed to have exhausted the 
supply of these characteristic adjuncts of a gipsy 
encampment. 

Perhaps it was this very lack which attracted 
the inhabitants of Cambria and Lovejoy in such 
numbers. The one large van mounted upon a 
substantial motor truck, the two small tents upon 
the green between the grove and the river, the 
crackling campfire visible any night from the 


198 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

road, were sufficiently picturesque and mysterious 
to intrigue the most exacting even without the 
presence of that slender, feminine heathen who 
‘‘knew the thoughts of your heart/’ 

One afternoon this serious young women 
clinked two silver dollars into the little black vel¬ 
vet bag which always hung from her girdle for 
the express purpose of receiving silver dollars, 
and waved a fervent farewell to two admiring 
patrons who took the rocky road in the direction 
of the main thoroughfare, two dollars poorer but 
many dollars happier, for each had been assured 
of things hoped for but as yet unseen. 

In fact, it was surprising how uniformally for¬ 
tunate the denizens of Lovejoy and Cambria were 
about to become, if there was any truth at all in 
fortune telling. 

The gipsy stood like a little statue on the bank 
of the stream watching her visitors depart. The 
red of her short, full skirt and of the silk handker¬ 
chief which bound her raven locks, made brilliant 
splashes of color against the black-green of the 
oaks and the lighter green of the foreground. 
To the west stood the van with its steps let down, 
and its open door revealing sundry homely domes¬ 
tic belongings which gave a touch of suggested 
comfort even to that wild scene; the white roll 
of the bunk edge peeping from between protecting 
calico curtains; a small rocking-chair; a square 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


199 

of carpet on the floor of the van; a mirror against 
the wall with a case beneath for brush and comb. 
To the east of the foot-bridge a big gipsy man 
piled faggots beneath a kettle. The faggots 
made the fire leap merrily, and the steam rise 
from the kettle. 

A woman came and removed the kettle cover, 
letting out an appetizing smell of broth which 
floated over the camp. A large girl, moving lan¬ 
guidly, came from somewhere behind the thick lit¬ 
tle grove of pin oak with a trail of white sewing 
fluttering over one arm. For gipsies must be 
clothed and fed as well as the rest of the world. 
This girl also wore a red cotton dress, but of a 
darker color and splotched over with gaudy leaves 
and flowers. 

“That soup smells good,'’ she said, and came 
and took the spoon from the small woman. She 
gave the contents of the kettle a stir or two, then 
handed the spoon back as if through a sudden lack 
of interest and turned to meet the small gipsy who 
approached the group. 

The latter proceeded to untie the red handker¬ 
chief, thus revealing the blue-black hair matted 
closeiy about her head. She did not stop at the 
red handkerchief, but also removed the blue-black 
hair and shook out a mane of red gold which 
reached to her waist. 

“You had better hold yourself in readiness, Su- 


1 


200 


l the green eyed one 

san,” she advised. “You may have to tell a for¬ 
tune or two. I feel that I just must wash my 
hair.” 

She thrust a hand into the little black, dangling 
purse at her side. “Ten dollars today already. 
We’re paying a fearful rent to Gipsy Lovell. I 
should have stipulated a commission.” 

“But who dreamed you’d be such a success at 
it, dear,” purred the little woman, stirring away 
at the mixture in the kettle. 

Susan sat down upon a camp stool, her elbows 
on her knees. 

“I won’t do it,” she announced. “I couldn’t 
tell fortunes. I can’t rattle off—lies, as you do, 
Colinette.” 

Colinette sat down upon the grass and crossed 
her feet in front of her. She tenderly placed the 
red handkerchief and black wig within easy reach 
and proceeded to arrange her own hair. 

“I try not to lie any more than is necessary,” 
she assured Susan, “and we must keep our end of 
the bargain. Remember what a lucky chance 
this was—this gipsy deal. He left us the van 
with the understanding that we were to carry on 
his business here while he was away. Think 
what a good opinion he must have had of us. Tie 
read our character at once, you see, and knew 
that we would not knock down fares. Our rent 
for the furnished van and the camping site and 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


201 


the good will, to be whatever we took in in the 
regulation gipsy way—horse-trading, dog-steal¬ 
ing, fortune-telling. Willie absolutely refuses to 
steal dogs, and you and Aunt Susan won’t tell 
fortunes, so it's up to Little Colinette to pay the 
rent. But, really, I didn’t suppose the life of a 
gipsy fortune-teller was so—onerous or so remu¬ 
nerative. We told him that we wouldn’t go into 
the towns and solicit fortune telling, but that we 
would be willing to serve such seekers as hunted 
us out down here in the pasture. So far as we 
know, Lovell has kept his word and we must 
keep ours. Willie,” she called, “Susan absolutely 
refuses to help pay the rent, even through the off 
hours, which as we all know now, is between 
seven and eleven in the morning, and from five 
until eight at night. If she and Aunt Susan 
won’t spell me now and then, why, you will have 
to do it.” 

“I never heard of a gipsy man telling fortunes,” 
objected Willie, coming up with an armful of 
wood, “I don’t believe it would go down with the 
public.” 

“Why of course gipsy men never tell fortunes,” 
corroborated Mrs. Dunlap, as she handed around 
soup and bread to the assembled company. “It 
would be a dead giveaway. Which will you have 
in your soup, Willie, bread or crackers ?” 

“Neither do gipsy men cut wood and bring 



202 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


water from the spring,” returned Colinette, deftly 
balancing her soup dish in her lap and savoring 
its contents with the zest of an epicure. 

Willie Klatz smiled at her. “I have to do 
something,” he objected, “And I told the guy I 
wouldn't go into town to buy or trade horses or 
dogs, so what is the proper gipsy thing for me 
to do?” 

“Well, of course, the natural thing for you 
to do, I suppose, in order to keep strictly in the 
picture, would be to lie on your back and smoke. 
But we will excuse you if you feel more like cutting 
wood, toting water from the spring, and helping 
with the dishes. If this is all of the bill of fare 
for tonight, Aunt Susan, I’ll let him help me carry 
the bowls around to the kitchen and wash ’em 
up. 

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” objected Susan. 
“I always wash the dishes, don’t I? Well then, 
why should you and Willie carry the bowls to the 
kitchen; that’s the job of the dishwasher. I don’t 
mean to be a shirk; I want to do my part of the 
work as well as take my share of the enjoyment, 
but I just can’t tell fortunes. I’m not a good 
guesser. I just tremble every time you leave 
camp for a minute for fear some goose of a hired 
girl and her beau wander down here. How 
should I know whether the young man were the 
girl’s steady, her brother, or her uncle?” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 203 

“Easiest thing in the world,” replied Colinette 
softly. “Listen now. Take a lesson in gipsying 
from Old Moll in case you should be caught alone 
some time and be forced to tell a fortune or two 
in order to keep good our contract with Lovell. 
Remember, we promised to take care of his cus¬ 
tomers. 

“In the first place, brothers and sisters don’t 
negotiate such a road as that out yonder to get 
their fortunes told. If a chap and a girl come 
out together, the chap is the girl’s lover, or at 
least a prospect, as agents say. It will be easy to 
tell how much in love with the man the girl is, 
or how much her affection is returned. Take the 
girl’s hand solemnly and tell her she has a lover. 
If they both giggle, you’ve got ’em there before 
you. If the girl alone giggles, and the man looks 
sulky and tries to hide it, then you know that the 
lover is back in Lovejoy or Cambria, and that 
this man is an interloper. Under such conditions 
it will be safer to predict that the girl will change 
her mind in regard to her present sweetheart and 
take up with one who is truer and better and more 
to be depended on all the way around. 

“If you see a bunch of girls coming across the 
pasture without any young men in the party, the 
best way is to sit in the door of my tent down 
there by the brook’s edge and sharpen your ears. 
Every mortal girl will give away either her own 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


204 

or her friend’s love secrets before they reach the 
gipsy camp. Makes easy sledding for the sooth¬ 
sayer. Even you, Aunt Susan, could manage 
such a case.” 

Mrs. Dunlap threw out protesting hands, dis¬ 
claiming any ability whatever. 

“If the girl is around or under sixteen, tell her 
that she is in love with someone who, at times, 
wears a uniform. Describe a baseball suit as if 
you never saw one aside from those in your vic¬ 
tim’s palm. If you like the girl and wish to please 
her, tell her the young chap in the white pants and 
pie skullcap is in love with her although too bash¬ 
ful to own it. If a girl is plain, twenty-nine and 
anxious-looking, predict a lover and happier days 
—always. Ten to one you will be hitting it that 
way, and if you are not, it will give her a few 
hopeful moments anyhow. 

“You can almost always tell a jealous woman 
who has come to the gipsies for help, or to find, 
out the worst.” 

Colinette slipped a stained, slender hand into 
the velvet pouch and brought forth a little bag. 
She poured a portion of its contents into her palm, 
gazing upon it with all the tender earnestness of 
an inventive wizard. 

“What’s that?” demanded Willie, catching the 
tips of her fingers and dragging the powder 
within reach of his nose. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 205 

“That,” Colinette informed him, “is a love po¬ 
tion. Don’t sniff up any of it, Willie. If you 
should get the least little bit of that in your throat, 
so that it would eventually reach your stomach, 
you would be dead in love with the girl from 
whose hand you receive it. Wouldn’t that be 
awful?” 

Willie laughed recklessly, and made as if to 
lap up some of the powder with his tongue, but 
Colinette jerked her hand away and spilt the 
powder on the ground. As she did so she looked 
straight into her Cousin Susan’s eyes and caught 
there a glance of seething jealousy which Susan 
tried, too late, to suppress. 

“That powder,” Colinette went on, “is espe¬ 
cially designed for flirtatious husbands. In cases 
of that sort I prescribe a heavy dose—say a heap¬ 
ing tablespoonful. The effect is simply miracu¬ 
lous. It upsets the patient’s digestive system en¬ 
tirely for a time, makes him forget the light that 
lies in woman’s eyes and long for the tender min¬ 
istrations of a loving and faithful wife, the quiet 
and seclusion of home and his own dressing gown 
and slippers.” 

“It wouldn’t do me much good to fall in love 
with any girl just now,” joked Willie, “I couldn’t 
get her to love me back—not with all these whis¬ 
kers round my chops. I hate these whiskers, 
Colinette. How long are you going to make 



206 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

me go without a good clean shave and a hair¬ 
cut?” 

“As long as we are in the gipsy business. 
When Jack Lovell's wife recovers and he comes 
back, we’ll all wash, comb up and go home.” 

Wes,” owned Mrs. Dunlap, “I feel real anxious 
about Luther and Elmer. I do wonder how they 
are getting along with their meals. They are 
such helpless hands around a cook-stove. I do 
so hope that mother or Rinthy will see to it that 
they don’t starve.” 

“But you aren’t out here to worry about El¬ 
mer,” Susan reminded her mother crossly, “you’re 
here to rest and recruit and have a good time. 
Now you just keep busy at it.” 

“Oh I’m having a good time,” owned Mrs. Dun¬ 
lap gratefully, “best I ever had in my life.” 

“You’re getting as fat as a little pig,” triumphed 
Willie. 

“I believe I am,” owned Mrs. Dunlap sheep¬ 
ishly. 

She finished packing the dishes into a basket to 
be carried around behind the grove to the “kit¬ 
chen” located beside the spring. Colinette stood 
up and brushed the crumbs from her lap. From 
force of habit her eyes wandered across the pas¬ 
ture to the faraway roadside, where they lingered 
with a sudden startled expression. She disap¬ 
peared inside the van and presently the black rims 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


207 

of a pair of field glasses projected themselves from 
the small window which looked toward the road. 
A moment later she was back at the camp fire 
hastily adjusting her black wig and red hand¬ 
kerchief. 

'Then you have given up washing your hair?” 
asked Susan. 

"Yes, unless you want to tell fortunes for that 
motor full of folks which has just stopped at the 
fence.” 

"Well, I don’t. While you are doing them, 
Willie and I will do the dishes—” 

"No, Sue, let your mother help with the dishes 
tonight, and keep her back in the kitchen until 
these folks are gone. Mind, keep her there! 
Don’t show up, either one of you, until I send or 
come for you. I want Willie to stay here in front 
with me. I’m—afraid of this crowd that is com¬ 
ing. Look! They are going to drive right down, 
the gumps! They’ll be here in a moment—do as 
I tell you, Sue, and hurry!” 

Susan’s lip curled in unbelief. "Something 
new for Gipsy Moll to be afraid, isn’t it? But 
it makes a good excuse to keep your sweetheart 
with you. I don’t blame you—” 

Colinette cut her short. "Yes—yes, of course. 
I’ll send Willie after you when—the blow is over. 
But don’t show up until I do, mind!” 

"Don’t worry. Ma and I will stay around at 


2o8 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


the kitchen all night if you tell us to. It’s up to 
us to do the right thing for you always—” 

“Of course! Now skip! Make a rustling 
movement to be gone and take Aunt Susan with 
you! Willie, come here, I want to tell you some¬ 
thing! Hurry!” 

Willie handed the basket over to Mrs. Dunlap, 
but Susan paused for a parting shot. 

“We’ve had a good and exciting time out here 
playing gipsy, but I’m about ready to break camp 
and go home to my millinery store. I’m about 
sick of—hanging around the edges and watching 
other people make love—” 

“Yes<—yes, will you go along and get Aunt 
Susan behind the grove and keep her there?” 
Colinette was really showing symptoms of un¬ 
wonted excitement. Her eyes had lost their vio¬ 
let tint and showed black, as a gipsy’s eyes 
should. 

The approaching car had already accomplished 
the half of its perilous journey across the pasture, 
its occupants wholly taken up with the dangers of 
the passage. 

“Willie,” hissed Colinette tragically, “cast your 
eyes at that bunch, and then scurry up and begin 
to gather wood at the edge of the grove. Let 
your whiskers show as much as you can without 
turning your full face to ’em! Keep stooped 
over and look about forty. Leave the rest to me!” 


XVI 


Left to Herself, “Gipsy Moll” took a box of dark 
powder from her pouch and swabbed it thickly 
upon her face and hands, surveying the effect, 
more or less desperately, in a little pocket mirror. 

“Afraid Lve bitten off more than I can masti¬ 
cate/’ she murmured, “but, however, I’m in for 
it.” She retired as much as possible underneath 
her red headdress, pulling it down to her heavily 
blackened brows. She was encouraged by the 
fact that the dusk of coming night was already 
upon the pasture. 

In the back seat of the car, which had come to 
a halt on the far side of the stream, Aunt Rinthy 
Pickens was scolding even while she smiled. 

“I told you, Waldo, not to try to drive your 
car in here unless you wanted to break it all to 
pieces. Now you see how it is. Seems queer 
you’ll never take my advice—” 

“Well, you would come over here to have your 
fortune told, so here you be!” 

“Well, if I ain’t mistaken, you’ll never be able 

to git this car out of here unless some of these 

men will help you to pry it out—” She directed 

her gaze to the gloomy edge of the grove where 

209 


210 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


a moment before she had imagined she had seen 
the figure of an old gipsy man at work. The 
figure was no longer there, nor did it appear again 
during the visit. 

Mrs. Pickens walked the plank with some trep¬ 
idation. In the door of the tent stood the gipsy 
awaiting her visitors. Luther Dunlap got out of 
the car stiffly. 

“You go on with your fortune tellin’, Rinthy,” 
he called after his sister, “and we’ll see what we 
can do towards gittin’ the car out an’ turned 
round. And hurry, too; we must git back to the 
road before dark.” 

The gipsy brought a camp chair from the tent 
and Mrs. Pickens sat down, facing the fire. 

“Are you the fortune teller?” asked Mrs. Pick¬ 
ens. 

The gipsy nodded. 

“Wha’ d’yeh charge?” 

“One dollar.” 

“Ridiculous! I won’t give it.” 

“Suit yourself, ma’m.” 

“I don’t want my whole fortune told anyway; 
I just want to find out one thing: How much 
would you charge for tellin’ me where—” 

“Hey!” called her husband from the car, “have 
a little sense. If she’s a fortune teller and knows 
the past an’ future, she can tell what you’re after 
without any hints from you. You give her the 


211 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

dollar an’ let her start in. If she can’t tell what 
brought you here and why, then she can’t tell 
nothin’, and we’ll drive to Love joy an’ have her 
arrested for an impostor. I had a gang of gip¬ 
sies arrested once for just that same business— 
tryin’ to milk money out of the public by makin’ 
believe they knew things they didn’t know any¬ 
thing about.” 

“You hear what my husband says?” demanded 
Aunt Rinthy with her flattest smile, “he means 
it, too.” 

“Is you ’usband used to bossin’ men? Runs 
a factory or some such?” 

“No, but he owns a big farm right on the edge 
of a—” 

“There you go agin,” called Waldo Pickens, 
and crossed the plank bridge to steady his wife in 
getting her dollar’s worth. “Now you just do 
the pumpin’ yourself, an’ let her do the answer¬ 
in’.” He turned to the gipsy. “Don’t make any 
difference what I am, or what she is; you go 
ahead an’ tell what you know and be in a hurry 
about it, for I want to git my car back to the road 
before it gits much darker.” 

“You better take the car out to the road and 
leave me an’ Luther to walk over the pasture,” 
suggested Aunt Rinthy. But Waldo was not 
willing to lose the chance of “ballyragging” the 
gipsy. The gipsy took Aunt Rinthy’s hand: 


212 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“You live in the edge of a small town—” 

“There, you see?” chuckled Pickens, “I told 
you so. That’s the way they do it; they pic'k out 
of you everything you know, and then sell it back 
to you at a dollar per. Makes me sick! Here, 
git out of the way, Rinthy. Let her tell my for¬ 
tune, and if she don’t do it up in style, I’ll 
see what a justice of the peace can do about 
it.” 

The gipsy relinquished Mrs. Pickens’ palm and 
bent above her husband’s. 

“You’ve been a farmer,” she began. 

“Oh, tell me something I don’t know.” Waldo 
Pickens was beginning to enjoy himself thor¬ 
oughly. He decided that he “had the gipsy on 
the run.” 

“You ’ad a rawther nice ’ouse, painted white, 
three windahs an’ a door in front, shedroom on 
the side, barn be’ind—” 

Waldo made an impatient gesture. 

“You was about to say you know all this, an’ 
I dare say you do, but do you know that your 
’ouse burned to the ground three days ago; that 
in tryin’ to save ’er piano your only child broke 
’er leg—” 

Aunt Rinthy uttered a squeal of dismay. Her 
flat smile was ironed out into a look of horror. 
“Why Waldo, Waldo,” she cried, “she may be 
tellin’ the truth!” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 213 

“Keep still, can’t yeh!” Waldo’s own palm shook 
in the gipsy’s grasp. 

“Mind now, I didn’t say it is so,” said the gipsy, 
“I asked if you knew it was so. Maybe it isn’t 
so bad, and—any’ow, I ain’t got to- what you 
come for yet. Besides that nice ’ouse, an’ the 
barn with the 'ip roof at the back of it, you've lost 
a sister an’ two beautiful nieces—” 

“I shouldn’t call ’em so beautiful,” snapped 
Aunt Rinthy savagely. “An’ one of ’em is no re¬ 
lation to us, a tall—not the least in the world. 
Come, Waldo, I want to git home as fast as that 
old cart of your’n will take us—” 

“Don’t ’urry,” soothed the gipsy. “An old 
lidy, some connection of yours—is takin’ care of 
your daughter ’Elen. About the errand that 
brought you ’ere: You might as well give up 
lookin’ for the crowd that is lost, for circum¬ 
stances has changed ’em so you wouldn’t know 
’em if you was to bump right up against ’em—” 
“Has somethin’ happened ’em?” demanded 
Waldo hopefully, with a commiserating glance 
across his shoulder at the unconscious Luther in 
the car on the other side of the stream. If Helen 
had broken her leg, and the Pickens’ house and 
barn were in ashes, he could not suppress a thrill 
of gratification that Luther was to suffer also. 
But the gipsy relinquished his palm and shook her 
head. 


214 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“I ain’t tellin’ their fortunes; if you want that, 
you’d ’ave to cross me ’and with another dollar.” 

Rinthy and Waldo snorted in concert at the 
idea and prepared to go. 

“Do you own that automobile house?” asked 
Aunt Rinthy, indicating the van. 

“No m’am; Jipsy Jack, as they calls ’im, owns 
the van. ’Is wife is very sick an’ we don’t know 
w’at is the matter with ’er—” 

Aunt Rinthy gave a sudden forward move¬ 
ment in the direction of the river. She was fol¬ 
lowed closely by Waldo. As they stubbed across 
the plank walk where Waldo waited in their car, 
Aunt Rinthy audibly expressed her opinion of 
gipsies as a class. 

Colinette stood watching the load through the 
gap at the main road. The gipsy man stole from 
the shadows of the grove and came down to her 
side. 

“Think they suspected?” he inquired cautiously. 

“I thought so at first. It didn’t seem possible 
that they should not know me, but -as I went on 
with the fortune—” 

“I’ll bet it was a peach of a fortune,” chuckled 
Willie. 

“I told them no lies,” protested Colinette. 
“They were very impolite to me before I—stirred 
them up in the least. Then I asked if they knew 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


215 

that their house had burned down. Of course 
they could not know what had not happened, but 
—well, they seemed disturbed, and I think—I 
am almost sure—that they will be going right 
home. No, Willie, I did not lie to them, and 
yet—Em not happy with the evening’s work. 
Sit down here on the bank a moment; I want to 
ask you something: Why is it that I am always 
trying to do good and yet always do—the op¬ 
posite? You know, Willie, that I started out on 
this expedition with the best intentions in the 
world, now don’t you?’’ 

“You bet,” owned Willie. 

“It was not my intention to cheat, lie, steal or 
commit murder; and yet I have already ap¬ 
proached the first three mentioned crimes, and 
who knows how near I am to the fourth and 
greatest?” 

“Awh, come off, Colinette,” soothed Willie. 
“You haven’t lied nor stolen nor cheated. You’re 
a little brick, and quick as lightning. If the rest 
of us were only smart enough to play up to you 
we wouldn’t always be in a muddle. You go 
ahead and do things, but we hang back and—” 

“Willie,” broke in Colinette, “if you feel that 
way about it—that is, that I’ve been doing the 
greater part of the work in this scheme of ours, 
why don’t you—sort of—do your part as we 



2l6 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


planned? Why don’t you get yourself engaged 
all nice and comfy so that we may slide back into 
civilization once more?” 

“Because,” said Willie sulkily, “no man could 
make successful love from behind such a bunch 
of spinach as this!” He stroked his beard with 
a tragic hand. “You insist on my wearing 
’em—” 

“They are really necessary to your part—” 

“They may be all right for a gipsy’s disguise, 
but they’re darned poor trimming for a 
lover.” 

“But what, for instance, would you have done 
this evening without your whiskers?” persisted 
Colinette. “Uncle Waldo Pickens would have 
sung out, 'hello, Willie Klatz, you’re the chap 
we are out after!’ and the fat would all have been 
in the fire.” 

“I thought it was going into the fire anyhow 
when the two old guys began to groan about their 
machine being stalled. Did you notice a big gipsy 
fade away?” 

“I was glad you did. I could see how we 
would have gone to wreck if they had got a 
close-up of you. You will be obliged to go after 
supplies tomorrow—we are out of potatoes and 
baking-powder—and if you feel so embarrassed 
by your whiskers, Willie, get ’em pruned. You 
might as well. I hardly think anyone else will 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


217 

come tracking us down. In fact, if you count up 
you will find that our stipulated time is about up 
and Jack Lovell may be expected to drop in on us 
any moment now. I want to get away before we 
are found out. After my success as a fortune 
teller I wish always to remain the gipsy in the 
minds of those whom I have deceived. Go round 
to the kitchen now, Willie, and gather in the 
(Susans, Aunt Susan will be wanting to go to bed. 
This outdoor life makes her sleepy quite early in 
the evening. 

“While I get Aunt Susan to bed you take a 
stroll with Sue along the river bank and explain 
what has happened this evening. She’ll be sur¬ 
prised, I’ll warrant.” 

When Willie returned with the Susans a cosy 
gleam of candlelight streamed from the door and 
small windows of the van. Colinette from the 
steps reached a hand to her aunt, but Willie drew 
Susan away in the direction of the river. 

“But now?” asked Susan morosely. She was 
in low spirits; angry at Colinette for ordering 
her mother and her to the kitchen and keeping 
them there so long; angry at Willie for staying 
at the van with Colinette instead of coming back 
and helping with the dishes, but more angry at 
herself for caring. Was it not enough that she 
should have suffered all summer through jealousy 
of Colinette and Jeff, without now beginning 


2l8 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


afresh on a campaign of jealousy of Colinette and 
Willie Klatz? 

On the other hand, what right had Colinette to 
fall in love with Willie Klatz? Or what right 
had Willie Klatz to forget his old admiration for 
Susan in love for Colinette? 

Since they had been playing gipsy there had 
been moments when Susan almost felt sure that 
if she were a mind she might— But she had not 
followed up the lead. It was not her place to be 
treacherous even if Colinette was, and so she 
walked beside Willie on the banks of the river 
patting herself on the back, figuratively speaking, 
for her uprightness of conduct. 

“Did you wonder what made Colinette order 
you and your mother to go to the kitchen and 
stay till she called you tonight ?” asked Willie. 

“Oh no, I wonder she hasn't done it before/’ 
said Susan calmly. “Ma and I are always stick¬ 
ing round in the way. But we can't help it.” 

“You are never in my way, Susan,” said Willie 
with sudden fervor, and drew Susan’s arm tightly 
within his own. 

Susan was thrilled. There was something 
wonderfully pleasant in that tight, supporting 
grip which Willie had taken upon her arm. They 
walked on in silence when suddenly the full moon 
came up in the east, red and round and as big as 
a cartwheel. Across the stream they could hear 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


219 

the soft rustle of the Bennet sheep where they 
clumped together in repose. To the west the 
dim hulk of the van showed with the light stream¬ 
ing from its door, and the dull glow of the fading 
camp fire with its thin ribbon of smoke reaching 
up into the air. 

“Isn’t it lovely!” murmured Susan, feeling for 
the first the full joy of wild life. 

“Corking!” owned Willie. “I like it out here.” 

“So do I,” said Susan. “And it's doing ma a 
world of good.” 

“You bet it is. Let’s stay here till snow flies.” 

Susan giggled. “What about Gipsy Jack?” 

“He’ll stand pat so long as Colinette gathers 
in the sheckles the way she’s been doing. Pretty 
big rent for a weatherbeaten old scow like that.” 

The mention of her cousin’s name brought Su¬ 
san back to earth. This was Colinette’s lover, 
not her own, with whom she was standing out 
here under the moon. “We must go back,” she 
reminded him. “They will wonder what has be¬ 
come of us.” 

“Don’t go yet. The moon is wonderful. Let’s 
stay and enjoy it a few minutes. Besides, I 
brought you out here to tell you something—a 
secret.” 

Now she knew what was coming; Willie 
would tell her that Colinette had promised to 
marry him. She felt faint. Oh, how was she 


220 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


to stand it—to have Willie and Colinette married 
and she left out in the cold! She had an impulse 
to run forward and throw herself into the stream 
and make Willie wade in and save her. But she 
did not; she merely stood like a stone post in 
Bennet’s pasture waiting for Willie to hit her 
on the head with his news. 

“How do you like these whiskers of mine?” 
asked Willie suddenly. 

“I don’t like the looks of them very well,” 
owned Susan, thrown completely from her height 
of tragic emotion by such a silly question. 

“Then I wonder if you’d like the feel of them,” 
said Willie, and the next moment Susan was 
smothered in such an embrace and by such a kiss 
as she had never experienced before. 

She pushed him from her with both hands. 
Willie let her go. “Well,” he said complacently, 
“I’ve always wanted to kiss you, and now I have, 
and, as Ella Wheeler Wilcox says in one of her 
poems, nothing in heaven or earth can take that 
kiss away from me—undo it, you know; or un- 
kiss it, so to speak. No matter what you say or 
do, I’ve got that to remember.” 

“It was horrible!” stormed Susan. 

“I suppose it was,” owned Willie contritely. 
“You must -have felt as if your face was being 
mopped. I wish you'd let me try it without 
whiskens, Susan. I’m going to town tomorrow 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 


221 


to unload 'em. Colinette says I may. I never 
should have let 'em grow if she hadn't commanded 
me to. But having been in the army I know 
enough to obey my captain's orders." 

“You seem to have forgotten your wonderful 
news," Susan reminded him sternly, and braced 
herself for his reply. 

“That’s so, I had. But do you wonder, when 
such a nice thing happened to me—" 

“Oh, stop your blarney and go on with the 
news." 

“Well then, it is this: that load of folks were 
the Pickenses and your stepfather, Luther Dun¬ 
lap, out to consult the gipsy about where to find 
something that they have mislaid. Colinette knew 
them before they broke away from the highway 
over yonder, and she knew the jig was up if your 
mother recognized them. She didn't have much 
time to make arrangements, so she ordered a 
double quick to the rear for the Susans, and me 
to play support, while she occupied the front 
trenches herself and scored a complete victory. 

“Honest to goodness, Sus, isn’t that little green- 
eyed gipsy a corker ?" 



XVII 


In the morning Susan insisted upon doing the 
kitchen work alone. The reason for this was 
partly her fear of betraying the secret of her step¬ 
father’s visit. She was aware of her weakness 
in the matter of keeping secrets. She wished, 
also, for solitude and a chance to mull over that 
moonlight happening down by the river. That 
kiss of Willie’s had taken her very much by sur¬ 
prise. She was puzzled by his action and still 
more by her own attitude of mind. Was it pos¬ 
sible for a girl to be in love with two men at the 
same time ? She decided that it was not, at least 
to anybody with the least mental pabulum. Coli- 
nette had left everything to bring her out here 
to recover from the Jeff Plummer tragedy, and 
in the twinkling of an eye she was tingling at the 
kiss of another, and that other the man whom 
Colinette had evidently settled on for herself. 

Colinette had no right to fall in love with Willie 
Klatz. He was not her kind. Willie liked 
homely, simple things and homely simple ways, 
while Colinette was—why—complicated, mysteri¬ 
ous, not easily understood. And yet, Susan re- 

222 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 223 

member ed, Colinette had always liked Willie away 
back in high school days. 

Poor little cousin Colinette! Susan knew that 
in those old misty, musty, long-gone high school 
days Willie had cared a great deal for Susan 
Dunlap. She thought again of last night and 
wondered if it were possible that something of 
the old affection for herself were reviving in 
Willie’s heart. 

She would not be mean enough to try to revive 
it. No indeed. Poor little Colinette! And yet 
—that moment last night by the river— 

What was it that he had said last night while 
the moon rose—that he had always wanted to 
kiss her, and that now he had kissed her ? How 
could he feel proud of having kissed Susan while 
he was pledged to Colinette ? 

Was he pledged to Colinette? Colinette had 
as good as confessed her love for him, but because 
a girl loves a man is no reason why the man is 
bound to love that particular girl. And yet, 
Willie had called Colinette his captain, and con¬ 
fessed that he found it best to follow her leader¬ 
ship. It was a complicated affair any way one 
looked at it. 

/ 

One truth stood out clear in Susan’s mind and 
that was that Willie’s kiss had been a long way 
from disagreeable, and she could remember a 
time when it would have been so. But Willie 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


224 

had changed completely since then. Then he 
was Uncle Waldo Pickens’ hired man; now he 
was Lieutenant Klatz—an accredited war hero. 
Oh, why hadn’t she, like Colinette, been sharp 
enough to see the sterling qualities in the 
hired man which were so apparent in the 
lieutenant! 

What a romantic feeling the moon always gave 
a girl when it came up as it had last night big 
and red and round, especially a girl who had 
recently been cruelly jilted by one man, and was 
v/alking out with another girl’s sweetheart. 
Willie had spoken of the beauty of the moon, and 
of the charm of the gurgling little river, lipping 
the grasses at its margin. He had called the 
sound of the water, “a nice lonesome sound.” 

Susan was having such a nice time washing 
dishes and thinking over all these things that 
she quite resented Colinette’s intrusion into the 
kitchen and her offer of help. 

“I don’t need any help,” Susan told her petu¬ 
lantly. “What’s the matter with the fortune¬ 
telling business? Is it falling off?” 

“Too warm for them to travel out here, I’m 
thinking,” said Colinette. “It’s too warm for 
this wig at least.” She shed her brunette iden¬ 
tity, as was her wont in the privacy of the kitchen, 
and curled up in the rocking-chair which had 
been established here for Mrs. Dunlap’s comfort. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 225 

“They’d be astonished to see you now,” said 
Susan, referring to Colinette’s patrons. 

“They’re not likely to see me; Aunt Susan is 
stand.ing guard down by the bridge. A crowd 
of boys have been hanging about all morning, 
but there have been no other visitors. I am glad. 
I am about at the end of my infinite variety. I 
am sure I told that last girl the identical fortune 
that I spooned out to the one who came just be¬ 
fore. Time to strike camp and throw up the 
gipsy business. Aren’t you tired of it?” 

“No,” said Susan with a reminiscent smile, 
“I’m just getting used to it—now. Besides we 
can’t go, can we, until Jack Lovell comes back?” 

“I have a hunch that Jack will be coming 
soon.” 

“Oh, I hope not,” sighed Susan. “I hate to go 
home just now. You can’t imagine what this 
picnicing out here has done for me. I feel so 
much better. And I think ma feels—and looks 
—like another woman.” 

“I do think it has done wonders for Aunt 
Susan,” agreed Colinette, brightening. “Do you 
know, Willie and I have hatched up a scheme— 
(‘Willie and I!’ Susan resented the phrase). 
We are going to persuade Aunt Susan to go over 
to Cambria and be fitted for a set of upper teeth. 
We talked it over this morning—” 

“Who talked it over?” 



226 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“Willie, your mother and I, before Willie 
started for town/’ 

“Willie has gone, then?” 

“Yes, and he will bring the car out and take 
your mother over to Cambria this afternoon. 
The ride and the change will do her good and 
the teeth will surely do her good after she gets 
them. Willie can bring our supplies back in the 
car in place of packing them as usual. He says, 
too, that he just must have a good clean shave 
and a haircut. He says that his beard is de¬ 
moralizing him; that he begins to have a hanker¬ 
ing to cheat somebody in a horse trade, or to steal 
a dog. But he is mistaken; nothing could de¬ 
moralize Willie Klatz. He’s a prince.” 

“Not a prince, merely a lieutenant,” said Su¬ 
san, and added hastily, “I’m going to bake a pie 
for supper.” 

“T11 build you a fire,” said Colinette, and 
went about it. 

The smoke rolled pungently from the pipe cf 
the rusty old stove which was used to relieve 
some of the culinary strain from the more pic¬ 
turesque camp fire in front. 

Mrs. Dunlap appeared all in a twitter of ex¬ 
citement. 

“Eve told a fortune!” she announced. 

“Why ma!” “Why Aunt Susan!” exclaimed 
the girls in chorus. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


227 

“Tell us about it,” demanded Colinette. “I’m 
jealous! Stealing my profession!” 

“I really had to. I told her the regular fortune 
teller wasn’t here. She was awful sorry because 
this was the only time she could get away to come 
out to the camp. I told her, if that was the case, 
I’d do the best I could for her, but that I wasn’t 
much of a teller—just a makeshift. She sat down 
and told me all about her husband, how mean 
and overbearing he was, and how selfish about 
loading all the work off on to her, and never 
giving her any credit for anything. I told her 
to stand it as long as she could, but when he got 
too bad, just to tell him what was what, and warn 
him that if he didn’t change his ways she’d leave 
him and never come back.” 

“Good,” said Colinette, “that’s exactly what 
I should have advised her to do—what I 
should advise any abused wife to do, Aunt 
Susan.” 

Young Susan giggled. 

“I told her his name was John—” 

“How did you know his name was John?” 
asked Susan. 

“She accidentally mentioned his name when she 
first came. I told her she had children—she had 
mentioned that, too, but had forgotten about it 
and was just dumbfounded when I spoke about 
her children. She said if the regular gipsy was 



228 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


any more wonderful than I was she must be a 
regular prophet.’' 

“It’s easy/’ smiled Colinette, “people like to be 
fooled.” 

“She asked me if I had any children. I told 
her yes, one real and two step. She asked me 
where they all were and I hemmed and hawed and 
told her I didn’t just know where the two steps 
were—which is true, Elmer may be off again with 
Jeff Plummer—that is—he may be off hunting 
again somewhere—” 

“It’s a safe bet,” said Colinette. 

“She said her feet hurt something awful— 
stumbling over that rough pasture road—and so 
I gave her them old shoes of mine—” 

“Oh—oh,” quavered Colinette, “that was 
wrong, Aunt Susan; you stepped out of your 
part. A gipsy, according to my experience, takes, 
but never gives.” She put on her wig and hand¬ 
kerchief, remembering the unguarded condition 
cut at the bridge. 

Willie arrived, clean shaven, his hair cut, and 
with nothing of the gipsy remaining about him. 
He was becomingly excited. Susan’s heart 
throbbed in sudden admiration. 

“Well what do you think!’ 1 exclaimed Willie, 
“we can’t get our car. Somebody has been to 
Hank Jensen and told him it was a stolen car— 
two young chaps from Redmoon, Jensen says, 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


229 

told him to hang on to the car for a while until 
the rightful owner turned up. Told him, any¬ 
how, to wait until he heard from them again. 
Ain’t it the limit!” Willie slapped his knee and 
chortled his appreciation of the situation. He 
threw himself on the grass still laughing. 

“Ain’t it the limit, Colinette? Just like a game. 
We beat ’em two or three points when we ran 
across this chance to rent a prairie boathouse of 
Gipsy Jack—we thought we were awful smart. 
But up jumps Elmer and Jeff Plummer and 
checks us by tying up our means of transporta¬ 
tion.” 

“Dear, dear,” murmured Aunt Susan, “they 
must have passed along the main road over yon¬ 
der—seen our camp fire, even, and never dreamed 
they had us right under their thumbs.” 

“If they were to see you now they’d know you, 
Willie,” said Colinette. 

“Of course they would know any of you,” said 
Mrs. Dunlap. “Your gipsy rigs would fool 
strangers, but not anybody from Redmoon.” 
She was quite bewildered by the sudden gust of 
laughter which swept about her. But these three 
often laughed at jokes she could not see. 

“What shall you do about the car?” asked Mrs. 
Dunlap. 

“Go down after Hank Jensen has gone home, 
pry open the garage door and take my car,” said 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


230 

Willie. “I don’t propose to let Elmer and Jeff 
Plummer dictate when I am to use a car that 
I’m paying a hundred dollars a month for and 
furnishing my own gas. I brought the baking- 
powder and a few spuds along, but I cached the 
rest of the stuff at the roadside just a little way 
out of town where I can pop it into the car as 
I drive along tonight.” 

“That’s right,” commented Colinette, “ Tf You 
Want a Thing, Go After It.’ My own motto.” 

“You bet!” said Willie, “especially if it’s some¬ 
thing that belongs to you anyway.” 

“But that clause isn’t a part of Colinette’s 
motto,” Susan reminded them somewhat vindic¬ 
tively. 

“That’s a corking pie, Susan; is it for dinner, 
or must we wait for it until supper?” inquired 
Willie. 

“We shall have it for dinner,” Susan promised, 
and slipped it into the oven, smiling up at him as 
she did so. “The rest of you go round in front 
and set out the dishes; I’ll tend the pie.” 

Mrs. Dunlap and Colinette obeyed, but Willie 
lingered. 

“I’m sorry about this mixup with the car be¬ 
cause it will keep us from taking that stroll to¬ 
night,” he told Susan. 

'■What stroll?” 

“The stroll you promised to take with me down 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 231 

by the river where we strolled last night. We 
must go before the moon gets old.” 

“But Colinette—” 

“Oh, Colinette won’t care.” 

“You think there is no danger of Colinette’s 
being jealous of a—big homely thing like me, I 
suppose?” 

“You are not any too big, and you are not 
homely,” replied Willie soberly, “but just the 
same, Colinette will not be jealous if we walk 
out under the moon. Colinette isn’t of a jealous 
disposition.” 

“Of course—I know, Colinette is perfection.” 

“Let’s not talk about Colinette,” begged Willie, 
“let’s talk about ourselves.” 

“I don’t know what there can be to say about 
ourselves.” 

“Come over and sit down in your mother’s 
chair.” Susan complied, and Willie dragged out 
the washbench and sat down on it in front of 
her. 

“Did you ever think, Sus, how the existence 
of one person makes a difference with all the 
other persons around?” 

“What are you getting at, Willie?” 

“Take Colinette, for instance—just for in¬ 
stance, you understand, because in that respect 
I don’t suppose she is any different from the rest 
of us—” 


232 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“I thought we weren’t going to talk about 
Colinette.” 

“Well, you thought there wasn't anything in- 
interesting to say about yourself or me, so I fell 
back on Colinette.” 

“She is always interesting, of course.” 

“Yes,” agreed Willie, “she is always interest¬ 
ing because she is so different.” 

“And I’m like a million others.” 

“To me you are different from anybody else 
in the world.” 

Susan’s cheeks and ears were very red. It 
seemed to her that this was almost making love— 
almost, not quite. This was altogether different, 
of course, from the way Jeff Plummer made love. 

“As I said,” went on Willie, “take Colinette. 
Suppose Colinette wasn’t alive—never had been 
alive?” 

“If Colinette had never lived in Redmoon, I 
should have married Jeff Plummer,” said Susan 
in sudden passion. 

“I don’t believe you would.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because if it hadn’t been for Colinette you 
wouldn’t have been a milliner at all—all dressed 
up and good-looking every day; you would have 
been Aunt Rinthy Pickens’ hired girl, with red 
hands and no soft clothes, and Jeff never would 
have seen you. Some fellow who liked you in 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


233 

spite of your clothes—for yourself alone—would 
have got you. Some Rube with no style him¬ 
self, see? Me, like enough.” 

Susan stared at him a moment and then burst 
into tears. Willie took both her hands in his own 
in a clasp so fervent that it hurt. 

“Sue, Sue,” he trembled, “if there wasn’t any 
Colinette in the world to stand between us, could 
you—could you have—” 

“Oh my sakes alive and more too!” exclaimed 
a voice of distress behind Willie, and the guilty 
pair flew apart, overturning the rocker in their 
haste. 

It was Mrs. Dunlap with her head in the oven 
from which a murky smoke rolled forth; a smoke 
laden with the odor of frizzled piecrust and 
burned sugar. She dragged forth the ruin, and 
her face was tragic. 

“I told Colinette I smelt it burning, but she 
stuck to it that Susan knew enough to make a 
pie. She wouldn’t come, so I did, but—a little 
too late!” 

“A little too early!” muttered Willie, while 
Susan turned her back to wipe her eyes and gain 
some measure of composure. 


XVIII 


Captain Brackley was frankly hunting for 
somebody, and was puzzled and disappointed at 
not having found a trace of the party which he 
trailed. He had driven through Cambria a half 
dozen times; he had been gased and oiled and re¬ 
tired at the only public garage in Love joy so many 
times that Hank Jensen was coming to regard 
him as a regular customer. He had coyly in¬ 
quired about a certain car which seemed to have 
found a permanent home under Mr. Jensen’s 
garage roof until Mr. Jensen had intimated in a 
rather surly manner that the wherefore of that 
car, its presence in his garage, and the probable 
length of its stay was none of his business. He 
had scoured all roads, eaten at many hotels, 
always beating back to Lovejoy and that myste¬ 
rious car as the only tangible sign of the presence 
on earth of those he sought. His lack of success 
really bewildered him. 

Under cover of night, he had even revisited 
Redmoon. He did not care to set the town talk¬ 
ing, or to gratify the other two bands of searchers 
by the knowledge that he, too, had joined their 

ranks, and like them, had been unsuccessful. 

234 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


235 

He arrived at Redmoon shortly after eleven 
o’clock and had gone directly to Mrs. Gard’s 
house where, after much judicious knocking he 
succeeded in gaining admittance without rousing 
the neighborhood. 

He had hoped to find the wanderers returned, 
but Mrs. Gard informed him that the only ones 
who had returned were the searchers. The Pic¬ 
kenses had come rushing home because a gipsy 
had warned them that their house had burned up. 

“And it served ’em right for havin’ anything to 
do with disreputable folks like gipsies,” Grand¬ 
mother Gard thought. 

Luther Dunlap was talking darkly of getting 
a divorce from Susan on the grounds of deser¬ 
tion. Later Jeff Plummer and Elmer had ar¬ 
rived firm in the belief that something dire had 
happened to the Willie Klatz party. 

Mrs. Gard, now thoroughly alarmed herself, 
had begged Neal to continue the search until he 
found some trace of the lost ones, and Neal had 
promised to do his best. 

And he had done his best, but so far without 
success. He was slowly wheeling out of the 
village of Lovejoy once more, quite late in the 
evening, moodily wondering what direction to 
take, when he became aware that a traveler had 
stepped out of the road to let him pass. 

There was nothing remarkable about the in- 


236 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

cident except that the man had left the road so 
long before the car reached him as if anxious 
to avoid the illumination of the headlights. In 
fact, he had been but a shadow flitting to the 
north side of the road, yet when Neal arrived at 
the point where the lights should have revealed 
the person, there was no person visible. 

Under ordinary circumstances Neal would have 
thought no more of the matter, but the enterprise 
he was just now engaged in had aroused the 
sleuth within him, so he drove his car to the side 
of the road into the extinguishing shadows of a 
group of trees, locked it, extinguished his lights 
and walked back to investigate. 

Another car flashed by revealing an empty 
road. The man ahead was certainly dodging 
headlights. Neal walked rapidly on and presently 
heard the soft, regular thud of the man’s foot¬ 
steps in front of him. Easy enough now to fol¬ 
low him to his destination in the village. 

The man in front stood still. Neal was peril¬ 
ously near him before he realized this. The man 
was covering something at the roadside with 
brush. Easy enough to guess what—loot, which 
would shortly be picked up by a confederate in a 
car and whisked away to safety. Presently 
the prowler resumed his tramp in the direc¬ 
tion of Lovejoy, Captain Brackley at his heels. 

It was getting late. Lovejoy had been abed an 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


237 

hour at least. In another hour the moon would 
rise full, round, and betraying. The prowler 
walked straight to Jensen’s garage and began to 
fumble with the lock. It was plain that the man 
had no key to the garage, and therefore no legiti¬ 
mate business inside of it. 

Neal walked across the road and focused an 
electric torch upon the burglar. The man looked 
calmly over his shoulder and their eyes met. 
Neal’s heart nearly leaped out of his mouth as he 
beheld the undisturbed features of Willie Klatz. 

Willie was the first to recover his presence of 
mind. 

“Well, Brother of the Night!” he exclaimed, 
using the old greeting of the “Bat Club” of which 
they had both been accredited members in high 
school days. Their hands met in a hearty clasp 
of friendship—the pursuer and the pursued. 

It was a surprise to Neal that Willie actually 
seemed glad to see him; a not altogether pleasant 
surprise. If Willie were still in doubt as to his 
standing with Colinette he would not welcome a 
possible rival so heartily. But if everything were 
settled between them—the thought gave Captain 
Brackley a sharp twinge in the region of the 
heart. It may have added a touch of asperity to 
his question : 

“Where are you staying?” 

“That’s telling,” answered Willie. 



238 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“But why shouldn’t you tell me, Willie?” 

“Because I’ve promised not to tell until—I get 
my orders.” 

“Orders from whom?” 

“From the person I’m working for.” 

“Well, now that I’ve had the good luck to run 
across you, it isn’t going to be hard to locate the 
rest of the gang, I should imagine.” 

“It may be harder than you imagine,” said 
Willie, “for I mean to sit right here in front of 
this garage door until Jensen comes to work in 
the morning.” 

He proceeded to arrange a tottering throne of 
two discarded automobile tires, a box and a short 
piece of plank. 

“I’ll stay with you,” said Neal, “move over.” 
Willie did so, and Neal seated himself upon the 
opposite end of the plank. 

“This is nice and friendly,” chuckled Willie. 
“But do you know what will happen when Jensen 
comes and catches us here? He will have us 
both arrested for breaking into his garage. I 
had his old lock about chewed off when you 
turned up and spoilt my game.” 

“What’s the idea of your breaking into an¬ 
other man’s property, Willie?” 

“He’s got my car stabled in there and he won’t 
let me have it.” 

“Owe him something on repairs?” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 239 

“No, somebody told him it was a stolen car 
and he’s holding it for future developments.” 

A bit of diplomacy occurred to Willie. “How 
would you like to travel fifty miles or so after a 
car which belonged to you, and then not be al¬ 
lowed to take it out because a couple of bruisers 
had lied about its being a stolen car?” 

“But doesn’t the garage owner remember that 
you left the car with him?” 

“There’s where all the trouble comes in, I 
didn’t leave the car with him; another chap left 
the car, and Jensen is waiting patiently for that 
other chap to put in an appearance.” 

“Why don’t you get in touch with the other 
fellow?” 

“That isn’t easy—just now. I shall, of course, 
in time. But meanwhile I need that car. I don’t 
want to hoof it back over those fifty or sixty 
miles—” 

“No need of that, Willie; I have a good car 
right handy; I’ll take you—” 

“Sorry, Neal, but I can’t accept your friendly 
offer— Say, what brought you out here anyhow ? 
Seems funny that all creation has to come wheel¬ 
ing about the country after a party which started 
out for a quiet picnic all by its lone.” 

“I am searching for a certain golden-haired 
girl-” 

“You needn’t follow me then; no golden-haired 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


240 

girl around my tepee—nothing but black-haired 
damsels where I hang out. Honest; black as a 
crow’s wing.” 

“That is interesting, Willie. Can you by any 
possibility recall a mutual friend of ours, known 
in 'Bat’ circles as ‘The Green-eyed One’?” 

“Seems to me I faintly recall such a person,” 
replied Willie. 

“And can you by any stretch of memory hear 
her voice across the intervening years—a pleasant 
voice, and very earnest and convincing when it 
wished to be—can you hear it announcing its 
owner’s motto, which was: ‘When You Want a 
Thing, Go After it’ ? It’s a good motto. I have 
adopted it for my own. I’ll be honest with you, 
Willie; I want, above everything else in this 
world, an hour’s chat with that same golden¬ 
haired young woman—and I’m going after it.” 

“All right,” said Willie, “but I’ve already told 
you that I can’t help you. Good-by.” He rose 
with a jerk, purposely upsetting the shaky seat, 
and while Captain Brackley sprawled upon the 
ground, disappeared between the garage and a 
shed which flanked it on the east. 

In the confusion of his fall Neal lost track of 
Willie entirely. However, he sprang to his feet 
and plunged into the vagueness of indeterminate 
alleys and untidy back yards, running hither and 
thither without much plan and with no success. 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 


241 

Village dogs shot out of dark corners and chal¬ 
lenged him; henroosts, disturbed in their innocent 
repose, chuttered sleepily as he pounded past; 
barbed wire reached out cruel thorns for him, 
and tin cans lay in wait to warn sleeping Lovejoy 
that something, which did not belong, was loose 
within its boundaries. Once a dog barked furi¬ 
ously up near the west end of town, and Neal, 
working on the theory that if dogs barked at him 
they would also bark at Willie, was about to make 
a dash to the western confines, when another dog 
set up a mouthy alarm in the extreme east end. 

Neal gave up in despair. He leaned against a 
board fence and laughed—at himself. He knew 
that Willie, too, must be laughing at him at that 
moment. Willie must have caught a fleeting 
glimpse of him as he lay amid the wreck of that 
tire throne, legs and arms wildly waving, head 
and body mostly concealed under defunct rubber. 
Neal’s laughter was brought to an end by a 
raucus voice. 

“Hey, young feller, what you doin’ here at this 
time of night?” 

The enquirer barred the captain’s progress, 
and in the light of the newly-risen moon displayed 
an officer’s badge. 

“I am looking for a friend,” replied Neal, with 
all—and more—than his usual politeness. 

Here was a complication. If this old blunder- 


242 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

buss decided to arrest him and clap him into the 
Love joy lockup to await investigation by the au¬ 
thorities, Willie Klatz would laugh himself to 
death, and with cause. 

“Really, Em giving you straight goods/’ de¬ 
clared Neal, approaching the belligerent officer. 

“Did yeh expect to find your friend in John 
Grago’s henhouse?” demanded the officer of the 
law with biting sarcasm. “John’s had chickens 
stole before this.” 

“But not by me,” protested Neal. “I don’t 
like chicken. And my dear sir, stop and think a 
moment; what would I do with chickens?” 

“If you’re one of them there gipsies that’s 
campin’ over in the Bennet pasture—an’ yeh may 
be for all I know—I guess you’d know what to 
do with chickens.” 

“I have heard there were gipsies camping some¬ 
where near town, but I have not been to their 
camp. They are very interesting people—gipsies 
—don’t you think?” 

“Can’t say as I do. A man in my position has 
enough to look arfter without havin’ a pack of 
gipsies loaded on to him to keep track of. Though 
they say they’re quieter'n usual this summer. I 
ain’t been out, but my womern’s been out—” 

“You don’t happen to know a young chap by 
the name of Klatz around here, do you ?” 

“Huh? Klatz? Dutchman, ain’t he? No. 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


243 

we don’t go much on the Dutch out here to Love- 
joy—not sence the War. I know a man by the 
name of Shultz, lives out about two mile—” 

“Yes—thank you, but I don’t think he will 
answer my purpose, so, if you don’t mind, I think 
I’ll be moving along. My name is Brackley— 
Captain Neal Brackley, of the 27th, New York. 
He extended a card which the officer took, looking 
him up and down meanwhile in the strengthening 
moonlight. He had already decided that Neal 
was no gipsy, and therefore no chicken thief. 
The military title had had its effect upon him, 
backed by the bearing of the young man himself. 
He put the card in his pocket without having been 
able to read it. 

“My name is Cummings,” he informed Neal. 

“Awfully glad to have met you, Mr. Cum¬ 
mings.” They shook hands. “If you happen to 
run across Mr. Klatz just tell him that Brackley 
is looking for him, will you? Captain Brackley. 
Thank you. Good night.” 

Ten minutes later Neal was trudging discon¬ 
solately out on the east road in the direction of 
his car. He half expected to find it missing; it 
wasn’t his lucky night, he had decided. 

Suddenly he remembered something; that cache 
of Willie’s on the north side of the road. On the 
north side of the road Willie had covered some¬ 
thing carefully with hazel brush. Where was 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


244 

that object—or objects? An examination of that 
cache might throw some light on Willie’s mysteri¬ 
ous movements. 

He scouted carefully along without the aid of 
his pocket torch, the moon being sufficient now 
for his purpose, and soon came upon the cut 
brush, but whatever it had concealed was no 
longer there. 

“Willie has beaten me to it,” he muttered, and 
proceeded to do a little deductive reasoning as 
to Willie’s probable motives in the matter: That 
cache had contained a bag of provisions, bought 
earlier in the day with the expectation of having 
the car convey it to its destination. And Willie 
would have succeeded in getting the car had it 
not been for the encounter at the garage. Splen¬ 
did Willie! While he himself had been skirting 
chicken-houses and hobnobbing with alley dogs 
Willie had cantered out here, annexed his loot and 
gone his way. 

But in what direction ? Back to Lovejoy, or on 
to Cambria, or to some spot in the wildwood where 
he had concealed the Dunlaps and Colinette? 

The last he decided unlikely. The policeman 
would have known all about a camping party— 
any camping party within a radius of ten miles 
—even as he had known of the gipsies. 

Neal found his car undisturbed. He climbed 
into it and got it upon the road, in doubt whether 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


245 

to turn back or to go on. He was tired and 
sleepy, but the hope of ultimately overtaking 
Willie Klatz kept him moving Cambriaward. 

The road was neither straight nor smooth. 
Rank growth obscured the fences upon either side. 
If Willie were so minded he could slip out of sight 
easily enough and keep on laughing as his pur¬ 
suer bumped past. 

Neal began to experience a growing resentment 
against Willie. If everything were settled be¬ 
tween Colinette and him why all this secrecy? 

There was the rub! Everything was not set¬ 
tled between Colinette and Willie. Willie was 
still in doubt as to the state of Colinette’s feelings 
in regard to himself. He had carried her off on 
this touring expedition for the purpose of having 
her all to himself. When Neal remembered the 
effect on a girl’s mind of moonlight nights like 
this, and lonely roads, and green trees, and small 
dangers overcome, and everlasting propinquity— 
Splendid Willie! Deep Willie! Neal would have 
followed the same plan if only fortune had been 
kind enough to have given him the chance. 

But oh, to circumvent Willie! To jar his well- 
laid plans—upset him figuratively if but tem¬ 
porarily, even as he, Willie, had upset him back 
there at the garage. 

Ahead, his lamps and the moonlight disclosed a 
scrubby clump of trees by the roadside, and just 


246 JHE GREEN EYED ONE 

in front of them a break in the undergrowth, as 
though a road turned off blindly into a field. 

Neal had not reached this point when a sound 
came out of the night which crinkled along his 
nerves like an electric shock; a sound which at 
that moment, and under the existing circum¬ 
stances, thrilled him with an almost wicked sense 
of triumph. 


XIX 


The sound which had so startled Neal Brackley 
was the call of “The Bats”—the high call, as it 
had been known to the “gang.” It was sweet 
and piercing and yet indefinite enough to pass 
with the uninitiated as the note of a night bird, 
and it was produced by an ingenious little whistle 
used by the leader alone. When it had sounded 
the call “The Bats” had responded promptly, 
loyally and silently to the call of the chief. 

Neal thrust his car forward into the shadow of 
the trees and answered the call, as he would have 
answered it in the old days, as he knew Willie 
Klatz would answer if he had heard it. 

A girl stepped into the open space in the fence. 
The moonlight revealed her distinctly, and Neal 
experienced a shock of bitter disappointment. 
It was not the girl whom he had hoped and ex¬ 
pected to see. The hair, straggling from under¬ 
neath her red headdress was black as tar; she 
wore great hoops of gold in her ears; she had the 
swarthy skin, the bizarre dress and the impudent 
swing of a gipsy—and that, Neal at once decided 
her to be—but when she spoke, she spoke with the 

voice of Colinette Gard. 

247 


248 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“Willie!” she called out, and there was a note 
of hurried anxiety in her voice, “Jack Lovell has 
come. I scuttled down here to meet you and to 
warn you about the settlement. He insists on 
making it with you, and I think you had better—” 

“Get into the car,” invited Neal in a muffled 
tone, and without the slightest hesitation the gipsy 
climbed into the car, saying as she struggled with 
the door, “so you got it, I see. Did you have any 
trouble?” 

In place of answering, Neal drew her to him 
suddenly and kissed her straight upon the mouth, 
then gasped from the blow which took him fairly 
upon the cheek and for a moment stunned him. 

“Are you drunk, or crazy, Willie Klatz?” de¬ 
manded Colinette, attemnting to back out of the 
car. But Neal held her, while up the road 
sounded a hail, and Neal plainly saw Willie Klatz 
approaching, staggering along under a great load 
and shouting at the top of his voice, “wait, Neal; 
wait, I’m coming!” 

It was Neal’s turn now to laugh. “I see you 
are, Willie, but you are a minute too late. You 
remember,my motto, Tf You Want a Thing, Go 
After It.’ He still held Colinette firmly, but she 
managed to unfasten the velvet bag from her 
girdle and cast it at Willie’s feet where he stood 
in the road gasping after his late sprint. 

“The money for Jack Lovell. Don’t let him 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 249 

gipsy you!” Colinette called back from some dis¬ 
tance away, for the car was already in swift 
motion. 

Colinette settled into her corner beside the 
driver, and the car rolled on. The moon rode 
high and flooded the land with strong light, bring¬ 
ing out with almost daytime distinctness all the 
lovely details of the farmhouses, sliding so swiftly 
rearward, yet hiding the sordidness of their sur¬ 
roundings. The windmills, pigpens and barns 
shrank into mere interesting outlines, merged and 
concealed in blobs of darkness which in daylight 
were groups of oaks, elms, and apple orchards. 

“What a lovely world!” reflected Colinette in 
her still corner, but she said never a word. 

Neal, on his part, now that the excitement of 
the capture was over, became apprehensive at his 
prisoner’s prolonged silence. He had expected 
upbraidings, possibly pleadings to be taken back 
and released at that gap in a pasture fence where 
she had so mysteriously appeared. He cast a 
sidelong glance at her where she sat, so inexplic¬ 
ably silent—and so changed. He brought his 
machine to a snail’s pace. 

“I can hardly believe that you are Colinette—in 
that rig,” he began. 

“I am not—in this rig. I am Gipsy Moll. Do 
you wish to cross my palm with silver and try 
your fortune?” 



250 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“That little palm warned me of good fortune 
awhile ago without being crossed with either 
gold or silver/’ said Neal. “The side of my head 
rings yet from the slap you gave me. It nearly 
broke my neck, but—it brought me great happi¬ 
ness. It assured me that you are not—not on 
kissing terms with Willie Klatz.” 

“I am not on kissing terms with anybody, and 
when I am, it shall not be with a person who kisses 
me against my will.” 

“Forgive me, Colinette, please! And besides, 
it isn’t the first time I have kissed you. Don’t 
you remember the night in—I think it was Joliet 
—when we were on the road with the show, the 
house was still ringing with applause, when I left 
the piano and went to the back. You had just 
kissed Rosey, the doll star; you insisted on your 
grandmother and me kissing her, but I kissed you 
by mistake?” 

“We were not much more than children then.” 

“Colinette, tell me one thing truly: do you 
love Willie Klatz?” 

“Sincerely.” 

“Well enough to marry him?” 

“What is the idea of this questionnaire? You 
ought to know me well enough by this time to 
feel certain that, with me, no one ever got at the 
truth by coercion. Aunt Rinthy Pickens set out 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 251 

after the truth about my mother's relatives when 
I first came to Grandmother Gard’s to live—” 

“I know,” said Neal, “she has a weird idea of 
your mother’s family to this day.” 

“I wish you would drive faster.” 

“Why?” 

“When I start for a place I like to get there in 
a hurry. Of course I haven’t the least idea where 
the internment camp is in this case—” 

“I am taking you home to your grandmother’s,” 
Neal informed her, with a touch of severity in 
his tone. 

“Oh, I shall be glad to see grandmother again. 
What time do you expect to reach Redmoon?” 

“Depends on the clip I make.” 

“Well, I would like to suggest that as I am 
headed for home I must reach there before it is 
light enough for the neighbors to recognize me. 
If Aunt Rinthy sees me in this rig she will be 
startled and angry. You see, she visited the 
gipsies for the purpose of having her fortune 
told. I charged her the regulation fee and she 
may feel cheated if she finds out that the girl who 
taxed her a dollar was only John Gard’s girl in a 
black wig.” 

“Do you mean to tell me, Colinette, that you 
and Willie Klatz and the Dunlaps were out at 
that gipsy camp all the time, while Jeff Plummer, 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


252 

and your relatives and I circled around and 
around and around searching wildly for you?’’ 

“I am not telling you anything, and Em not 
going to until we get to grandmother's. I shall 
have some explanations to make to her, and I 
might as well explain to you both at the same 
time and save words. Of late I've been selling 
my conversations and explanations at quite a 
high figure. Besides I never was one to waste 
words.” 

“Then let me explain how I came to—” 

“Wait; we will both explain to grandmother.” 

“All right. Then it’s full speed ahead until 
we nose into port at grandmother’s dock,” as¬ 
sented Neal, and the car shot forward. 

The farmhouses reeled by once more. Now 
and then Neal lessened speed to keep from mur¬ 
dering a too faithful watch dog, or to avoid a 
puncture at a bridge approach. They passed a 
milk truck hurrying for a station, morning was 
coming. Neal consulted his watch and accel¬ 
erated speed a bit. The landscape took on a 
familiar aspect—Lake Jane flashed by, then the 
quiet outskirts of Redmoon, Jefferson Street, 
where the Plummers lived, a whirl around the 
old Pettingill House corner, and at last Grand¬ 
mother Gard’s little brown house, as sound asleep 
as a kitten, facing the widowered Dunlap res¬ 
idence, which seemed to glare accusingly at the 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 253 

despoiler of its comfort as she descended from 
Captain Brackley’s car. 

As yet no one was stirring the entire length 
of Brown Street. But this immunity would not 
long continue, as the travelers knew very well. 

They knocked cautiously at Grandmother 
Gard’s door. When at last the key grated and 
the door opened slightly, an oblong section of 
Grandmother Gard herself appeared through the 
merest crack. This crack was so narrow that 
only one eye was available in aiding Mrs. Gard’s 
decision as to the identity of her early callers. 
This one eye, unfortunately, took in the girl, 
swarthy, red-capped, ear-ringed; it did not rise 
to the girl’s escort. Consequently Mrs. Gard’s 
welcome was far from warm. 

“What do you want?” she demanded, and the 
exhibition of grandmotherly nightgown grew 
even narrower with the further closing of the 
door. The escort turned his back and gazed over 
toward the Dunlap house and his shoulders shook. 

“To tell your fortune, madam,” explained the 
brazen gipsy. “If you cross me ’and with silver 
I will tell you w’at is to come and w’at ’as already 
gone by—” 

“At this time in the mornin’?” 

“It’s never too early to find out the truth, 
madam.” 

“Well, I know already what’s gone by; and a 



254 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

woman of my age can pretty near tell what is 
comm’,” said grandmother not unkindly. "A 
few quiet years, a nice respectable funeral in the 
church, and a 'Sacred to the Memory of’ up in 
the cemetery.” 

"I told the fortune of a relative of yours not 
long since,” persisted the gipsy. 

"For the land o’ Goshen’s sake! Was you the 
one?” The crack in the door widened a bit. 
"Well, if you don’t come no nearer other folkses’ 
fortunes than you did Rinthy Pickenses’, you 
ain’t worth one cent, let alone one dollar. That’s 
what you fooled her out of. And her house 
wa’n’t burned down at all, an’ her daughter’s leg 
wa’n’t—” 

"You ’ave lost something and I can tell you 
where to find it.” 

Grandmother’s interest was aroused. "What 
have I lost?” 

"A granddaughter, and I can tell you where 
she is.” 

"Where is she?” demanded Mrs. Gard, open¬ 
ing the door wide enough to disclose the entire 
front of her white robe, and her nightcap tied 
with sweet innocence under her chin. 

"Right in your arms!” cried the gipsy, and 
clasped the bewildered lady, bestowing as she did 
so a smoke-colored kiss on the double chin just 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


255 

above the tied bow of the nightcap strings. 
“Now, grandmother, you toddle into the bedroom 
and dress so that Neal Brackley can come in. 
Don’t you see that he is waiting?” 

Mrs. Gard acted upon this advice so suddenly 
that the tail of a snowy robe fairly snapped as 
she rounded the corner into her own bedroom. 

“Now,” begged Colinette, “please take the car 
away and park it somewhere else, or the moment 
Uncle Luther gets out of bed and comes to the 
front porch to consult his thermometer he’ll be 
over to demand the why and the wherefore.” 

“Colinette, tell me first if I may—” began Neal, 
but Colinette was imperative: 

“Go now, right away, or you know what will 
happen. Uncle Luther will occupy the time tell¬ 
ing how his health and Elmer’s has been ruined 
by the fiendish neglect of Aunt Susan, and you 
won’t have a chance to explain why you kid¬ 
napped a gipsy, nor I how I came to be one, or 
why I love Willie Klatz better than anyone else 
on earth—almost.” 

She paused a moment to watch the car whisk 
around the corner out of sight, and then made a 
careful estimate as to how long it would take 
Neal to dispose of it down town in the public 
garage and walk back. There would be sufficient 
time for her purpose but none to waste. 


256 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

She sat down, took off her red handkerchief, 
wig, unhooked her tinsel ear-whoops and piled 
them in a little heap by her side on the floor. 
She could hear her grandmother’s hurried move¬ 
ments as she dressed in her bedroom, and she 
waited patiently drooping in the best rocking- 
chair. 

It may have been the dark coloring upon her 
face, the artificially deepened shadows about her 
eyes, which gave her the bitter, almost tragic look. 
Her grandmother noticed it at once as she came 
bustling in, still hooking the last fastenings at 
her waist. 

“What is the matter? Ain’t you glad to be 
home with granflma once more? You look as if 
you’d had a spell of sickness. I guess it’s that 
old brown stuff you’ve got all over your face. 
Go now, and wash up and change your dress and 
look like a human bein’ before he gits back. I’ll 
build a fire, and fry some nice thin slices of salt 
pork, and warm up some potatoes. You might 
run out an’ bring in a handful of ripe tomatoes; 
they’re gittin’ just splendid now. And Neal likes 
’em, you remember—” 

“I will, grandmother, but before he comes back 
I have something very important to say to you—” 

“Of course; you want to tell me all about the 
Susans, but you can do that after breakfast.” 

“There is something I must say before he gets 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


257 

back—something I want to explain—a promise 
which I made to you long ago which I feel that 
I—must no longer keep—” 

“There never was but one promise I wouldn’t 
consent to your breakin’—just one. You know 
what that one promise is, so let’s not talk any 
more about that.” 

“It is that one promise, grandmother, which I 
must break—” 

“Colinette!” There was anguished upbraiding 
in the voice, there was horror, and the hurt of a 
loving heart visible in Grandmother Gard’s coun¬ 
tenance. “I thought that was settled for all time 
between us two!” 

“But when I made the promise I didn’t remem¬ 
ber that I might be doing a wrong to—somebody 
else by keeping the secret.” 

Mrs. Gard made an impatient gesture. 
“You’re a funny girl; you’re one of them kind 
that strain at a gnat and gulp down a camel—a 
hull circus! You’re so mighty afraid of doin’ 
your friends dirt, and agin, you wade in and do 
things that—that—why, Waldo Pickens himself 
wouldn’t think of doing; no, nor your Uncle 
Luther, nuther!” 

Colinette sat bowed before the storm of her 
grandmother’s displeasure. She waited until it 
had subsided somewhat, then began again exactly 
where she had left off: 



258 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“It’s like this; it didn’t make any difference to 
you nor to me, and between us two we agreed that 
our secret should never make any difference to 
the Susans and it hasn’t, I am sure it,hasn’t—” 

“Of course it ain’t! Then what do you want 
to go rakin’ it up for at this late day? Who 
could it make any difference to?’' 

“To the man I marry.” 

“Why, what do you mean? Have you and 
Willie Klatz—why, my goodness! Why, I’m 
tickled to death! And I was afraid all the time 
that it was— But what difference will it make to 
Willie Klatz whether you are my—on my! there 
I go, and we promised never to speak of it, never 
to breath it, never to say the words! What’s the 
use of rakin’ it up, I say?” 

“If you won’t release me from my promise I 
shall never marry anybody—not anybody in this 
world!” 

“I never will give my consent!” Mrs. Gard 
covered her face with her apron and began to 
weep, loudly, noisily, sobbing and rocking back 
and forth in an emotion composed of anger and 
grief. It was a typical Gard demonstration. 
This was the way of Mrs. Dunlap and of her 
daughter Susan. 

But not of Colinette. Sitting calmly there in 
front of the swaying, sobbing old woman, Coli- 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


259 

nette almost envied her grandmother that power 
to vent all her emotions, her sorrow and disap¬ 
pointment, in one devastating storm. 

A step sounded on the walk, the step of one 
eager to arrive, to explain, to receive explanations. 
Both women started, but it was too late to change 
the aspect of affairs: a tattoo on the door and 
Neal was in the room. And there sat Colinette, 
still in her gipsy costume from which she had 
torn all the picturesque details and stacked them 
in a gaudy heap on the floor, and there sat Grand¬ 
mother Gard with her apron over her head, con¬ 
cealing her grief from the eye but not from the 
ear. 

Neal drew his own dismayed conclusions. 
Someone was angry—was hurt, at him, of course. 
He slid into a chair holding his hat upon his knees. 
It was not what he had expected as he had come 
so joyously up Brown Street, past Colinette’s 
studio—his once on a time—and the Pettingill 
House, recalling with a grin the good old days of 
“The Bat Club,” and the fun the “gang” had man¬ 
aged to get out of the meetings in that old hotel. 
And now this! Colinette must have given her 
grandmother an intimation of what had passed 
between them on the road home and— But what 
had Mrs. Gard told him on the occasion of his 
former visit? That she would be even more 



26 o 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 

pleased with him as a grandson-in-law than with 
Willie Klatz ? 

Colinette favored him with a wry smile. 
“Grandmother is—so glad to see me home again,” 
she explained. 

Grandmother came from behind her entrench¬ 
ments to explain on her own behalt. 

“I’m glad enough to have her home,” she de¬ 
clared between sobs, “but she—always manages 
to do something I don’t want her to do!” 

“She’s bad through and through,” acquiesced 
Neal with a grin. “But I’m here to explain how 
I came to—” 

“Please, Neal, I think I’d better begin,” begged 
Colinette. “But first, I want to promise grand¬ 
mother that I shall do what she wishes me to do— 
absolutely!” 

“No you won't; you just say that, but you 
won’t,” persisted grandmother stubbornly. “Any¬ 
how, you go wash your face and change your 
clothes while I git breakfast, then we'll talk after¬ 
wards.” 

But Colinette insisted that the talk come before 
breakfast. 

“We can sit and eat breakfast with Uncle Lu¬ 
ther and Uncle Waldo and Aunt Rinthy sitting 
about, but I am not willing to make my confes¬ 
sion before such an audience, especially Aunt 
Rinthy, because—” 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 


261 


“Well, go ahead then,” agreed Mrs. Gard, “I 
can stand it if you can, but you are certainly an 
awful lookin’ critter with that brown and red 
paint all over your face.” 


XX 


Willie Klatz picked up his supplies and Coli- 
nette’s little velvet pouch, wiping the dust of the 
road from the latter, and began the last lap of his 
journey to the camp. At times he shook his head 
and laughed, and twice he muttered, ‘'big fool— 
Neal—jealous; that's what’s the matter with him. 
If only he had waited—” 

Willie’s reflections were cut short by the ap¬ 
pearance in his path of Jack Lovell, the gipsy. 
He was in a belligerent mood. He had come for 
his van and must have it at once. 

"Is your wife still sick?” inquired Willie po¬ 
litely. 

"She’s dead, but I have another wife,” the 
gipsy informed him. 

"Say now, that’s what I call some speed,” de¬ 
clared Willie admiringly. He lowered his bag 
of provisions into the dust once more the better 
to gaze upon a man who could court and marry 
with such expedition. "Now—er—it takes a 
white m—er—I should say, a Yankee—longer 
than that to do his courting. I know of one young 
chap who has been fifteen years making up to a 
girl and he isn’t anywhere sure of her yet.” 

262 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 263 

The gipsy was not interested. “Yes,” he said, 
“but I have come for the van and I must have it.” 

“All right. Let’s see-e—we were to do the 
gipsying for you—the fortune-telling—if I re¬ 
member correctly, and you promised to accept our 
earnings during your absence as rent for your 
outfit, and you were to have the use of our auto¬ 
mobile to take your crowd off to your relatives 
somewhere, afterward to bring our car back and 
leave it at Hank Jensen’s. That was the bargain, 
wasn’t it?” 

The gipsy eyed Willie cautiously. Willie be¬ 
came aware that Lovell was about to “gipsy” 
him, and he braced himself to obey Colinette’s 
orders and not to be gipsied. 

“Your woman couldn’t tell fortunes,” hedged 
Jack. “I dare say you ’aven’t ’ad a dozen folk 
out at the camp since I went away.” 

Willie did a little hedging himself. “Oh I 
guess we’ve had as many as a dozen. And of 
course my women folks have done the best they 
could. But we’ve had a nice lonely spell of camp¬ 
ing anyhow.” 

“I think you must pay by the week,” announced 
Jack. 

“Awh, say now, that wasn’t the bargain—” 

“I think you ought to, and I think I can make 
you—” 

“Tell you what Ill do: in the morning you 



264 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

go round to Bennet’s garage and get my car and 
drive it up here and then we'll settle.” 

“I want fifty dollars,” said the gipsy. 

Willie made a swift mental calculation. “Fifty 
dollars! Gee! You don’t want anything, do 
you. Well, you go and get my car and bring it 
here in the morning and we will see what we can 
do.” 

It was a warm night and the camp fire had been 
allowed to die out. The place looked deserted. 
Willie carried his provisions around to the kit¬ 
chen, where he found Mrs. Dunlap dozing in her 
chair and attending a feeble fire in the cook-stove. 

“We thought you’d be late," she explained, “so 
we kept a fire to make up a cup of tea if you 
should happen to want one. We had to stay up, 
for the gipsy has come. Colinette slipped down 
to the road to warn you that he was here and to 
tell you that he was sort of ugly like about his 
rent for the van.” 

“Where’s Sue?” 

“She was round here a minute ago. Hoo-hoo, 
Susan, Willie has come!” Susan appeared from 
the gloom of the trees, and Willie realized at once 
that it was Susan in her least agreeable mood. 

“Where is Colinette?” asked Mrs. Dunlap. 

“Don’t know,” responded Willie truthfully. 
If Neal had kept up the speed with which he had 
left the gap in the fence, Colinette would be be- 


sTHE GREEN EYED ONE 265 

yond Cambria by that time. But who could tell? 

“You saw her, didn’t you?” demanded Mrs. 
Dunlap anxiously. “Because that gipsy is hang¬ 
ing round and I wouldn’t put it past him to rob 
her if he could find out that she carried money in 
that velvet bag.” 

“He’s gone all right,” soothed Willie. “I 
watched him head for town. He’s coming for 
the van in the morning, though, so I suppose this 
is our last night of gipsying. I am sorry, too. 
We’ve had a good time. Don’t you think we’ve 
had a good time?” He looked appealingly at the 
stormy lady. 

“I’ve had better,” she answered sullenly. 

“I never did,” said Willie stoutly, “never; but 
I suppose it’s over.” 

“Yes, and it is time too. I am beginning to 
feel anxious to get home,” said Mrs. Dunlap. 
“I do hope Luther and Elmer won’t be too much 
put out because I’ve stayed away so long. It 
wasn’t just right. But, really, it ain’t been alto¬ 
gether my fault, has it ? Colinette told me today 
that she would explain to her uncle Luther that it 
had been her fault and not mine that we have 
stayed so long.” 

“Yes, better let her do the explaining,” assented 
Willie absently, with his mind on a person much 
nearer than Colinette. 

“Oh yes, Colinette can soothe pa; Colinette can 


266 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

do anything. At least Willie thinks that she 
can.” Susan tried to keep all bitterness out of 
her voice, but she failed miserably. 

“I don’t see what’s become of Colinette,” said 
Mrs. Dunlap. “I’m worried about that bag of 
money—” She paused as her eyes rested on the 
identical bag in Willie’s hand. “She came up 
across the pasture with you, then, did she, 
Willie?” 

“No, she didn’t,” owned Willie, “and I’m wor¬ 
ried about her myself. Take this bag, Mrs. 
Dunlap, and go to bed. You needn’t be afraid 
of the gipsy, he’s gone for the night. And you, 
Sue, don’t you want to walk down as far as the 
gap with me to see what has become of Coli¬ 
nette?” 

“No, thank you; you would enjoy going alone 
better I am sure.” 

“I’m sure I wouldn’t, Sue. Come now, be a 
good girl—for once.” 

“I’m not going!” 

“All right then, neither am I.” Willie sat 
down with an air of permanency—the settled ap¬ 
pearance of a church. 

“What’s come over you all!” scolded Mrs. Dun¬ 
lap. “Susan, you go right straight off across the 
pasture to the gap and see what has become of 
your cousin. Hoo-hoo her good, and if she 
doesn’t answer, come back for Willie and me and 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 267 

\ 

we’ll both go. You can’t blame Willie for not 
wanting to travel away back to the gap unless it’s 
necessary. He is tired.” 

'‘Now don’t you worry, ma; Willie isn’t so tired, 
for Willie didn’t tramp up from town; Willie 
came up in the car. I heard the car myself. 
And Willie will go back to where Colinette sits 
waiting for him in the car. And he wants to 
go alone, but out of politeness he asks me, hoping 
all the time I will refuse so that Colinette and he 
can take their little sprint alone in the car. You 
can’t fool me, Willie Klatz! I haven’t any lover, 
but—I have had in the past, and I know how such 
things work out. You and Colinette needn’t both 
be tender of me,” she said to Willie. "You both 
think I would feel left out and forlorn if you two 
were to go for a moonlight ride. Don’t you ever 
believe that I should. I’m going to bed right 
now. You two can take your ride and stay till 
morning if you want to (it’s most that now). 
You can’t hurt my feelings!” 

The young woman started around the grove in 
the direction of the van. Willie laid a restrain¬ 
ing hand upon her mother’s arm. 

"Just a moment, Mrs. Dunlap: you won’t 
care, will you, if I lug Susan off against her will 
to—well, to look after Colinette?” 

"Mercy, no, Willie; lug her off. I don’t know 
what’s got into Susan She’s been as contrary 



268 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


and as snappy as she could be all this afternoon. 
It ain’t like her. But I s’pose seeing you and Coli- 
nette so happy and contented brings back her own 
trouble and breakup with Jeff Plummer. You 
know how you would feel yourself under such—” 

“Yes—yes, well, you go to bed and to sleep, 
Mrs. Dunlap, and I will bring Susan back all 
safe and sound—” 

“Both of ’em—Colinette too.” 

“Well—er—but Colinette is all right; don’t 
you fret about her, Mrs. Dunlap. Now you go 
to bed—” 

He was gone in pursuit of Susan who, he 
feared, would carry out her intention of disap¬ 
pearing for the night before he could overtake 

» 

her. 

In place of seeking her bed in the van, Susan 
was wandering off by the side of the river in the 
direction of the spot where she and Willie had 
loitered the other time. He saw her dark figure 
in the moonlight, and in a moment he was at her 
side. 

“Where are you going, Susan?” 

“What’s that to you?” 

“It’s a good deal to me—everything to me.” 

“Willie Klatz, I want you to stop talking like 
this! In France you seemed to have learned the 
trick of making—well—of being sort of soft on 
two girls at once.” 






THE GREEN EYED ONE 269 

“Have you ever seen me being soft on two 
girls at once?” 

“You are trying to be soft on me tonight or you 
wouldn’t come pounding after me up along the 
river instead of going across the pasture to your 
own girl who is waiting for you down in the car.” 

“Didn’t we promise each other that we ; would 
come up along the river here for another walk be¬ 
fore we quit gipsying for good, and isn’t this our 
last chance?” 

Susan’s pent-up indignation burst forth: “and 
instead, didn’t you wander off with Colinette for 
a moonlight stroll and forget all about it?” 

“You’re off, Sue, a thousand miles off. I 
wasn’t wandering with Colinette; I was wander¬ 
ing with about fifty pounds of spuds, oatmeal, 
codfish, and dried beef on my back, and wander¬ 
ing mighty fast at that, for such a pack as I 
carried.” 

“Colinette went to meet you right after the 
gipsy came—” 

“I know, I saw her for just one minute down 
at the gap. She threw me her bag of money and 
says she, ‘Jack Lovell is back and wants his 
wagon. Here is his rent; don’t let him gipsy you 
in your settlement.’ S’help me, that’s the last 
I’ve seen of her.” 

“But didn’t you drive home in the car?” 

“No, I tried to steal the car, but I slipped up on 


270 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

that, and had to swing the bag of stuff home by 
main strength. And I haven’t been walking out 
with Colinette nor with anybody else. I took a 
run with somebody down in Love joy, but that’s 
neither here nor there. I got away from him, 
and afterwards he got away from me, but I don’t 
know as that bears on the present case, either. 
Anyhow, I can tell you about that later. I want 
to talk about something of more importance to¬ 
night. This is about the place where I—where 
you—where we stood last night. I think it is the 
most beautiful spot on earth; don’t you?” 

“I don’t know that it is; I think it is kind of low 
and boggy.” 

“It is boggy, I’ll admit, and of course there are 
snakes here—” Susan gave a little squeak and 
a skip and caught Willie’s arm. “But it isn’t 
water, or grass, or trees which make a place beau¬ 
tiful, it is what passes through the human mind, 
what thrills the human heart at that particular 
place. If I were rich I’d buy this pasture of old 
Bennet and put a fence around this spot, for 
right here, on this spot, I first kissed the only girl 
I ever loved, and right here, on this spot, I will 
take the second kiss.” Willie suited the action 
to the word, and took his second kiss from a 
wholly yielding girl who, however, had the grace 
to murmur between the two following kisses, “But 
Colinette, Willie; poor little Colinette!” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


271 

“Let’s not think of Colinette at present/’ said 
Willie, “let’s think of ourselves. I love you, and 
I want you for my wife. Will you marry me, 
Susan?” 

“But—what will Col—” 

“Tell me fairly and squarely and no fooling, 
Susan Taylor, will you marry me?” 

“I—I’m afraid I love you, Willie—” 

“Bless your dear heart!” 

“But I’ve no business to love you, Willie, be¬ 
cause—” 

“But Colinette cut in under you with your 
other sweetheart—” 

“If it hadn’t been for that,” cried Susan with 
flashing eyes, “I’d never have done this, I’d never 
have let you make love to me, never! I’m no 
sneak!” 

“You bet you ain’t, Susan.” 

“The worst of it is, I’m not sure whether Coli¬ 
nette did cut me out with Jeff Plummer or not. 
If she did, then why did she turn right around, 
run away from Jeff Plummer and make up to 
you?” 

Under the moonlight Willie’s smile was in¬ 
scrutable. 

“She’s such a changeable little devil—that Coli¬ 
nette,” was what he said. “But other folks 
beside Colinette have a right to change their 
minds.” 


272 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

“This is awful wicked of us, Willie. Em afraid 
it will break poor Colinette’s heart.” 

“Oh not so bad,” said Willie, in his sudden hap¬ 
piness reverting to the style of speech of Waldo 
Pickens' hired man. “This is the way of all 
lovers all the world over. Now when shall we be 
married, Susan?” 

“Gracious, Willie, you have just begun your 
courting, and to a girl, courting time is the best 
of all.” 

“You had your courting time with Jeff Plum¬ 
mer, and were you so very happy?” 

“I was miserably unhappy.” 

“Well then, Sue dear, have your marrying time 
with Willie Klatz and the courting time shall last 
all through our lives. Shall I get the license in 
Love joy tomorrow, and shall we go home as man 
and wife?” 

“If you think best, Willie. Now shall we go 
and find Colinette?” 

“Bless your heart, do you imagine Colinette 
sitting down by that gap in the fence waiting all 
night for me to come and fetch her? Not a bit 
of it. Colinette has gone about her own affairs 
long ago. Now let’s get back to the camp, wake 
up your mother and make our promises over again 
before her and tell her all about it.” 

Mrs. Dunlap, roused from a sound and health¬ 
ful sleep which left her a bit groggy, was pretty 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


273 

hard to convince of the fact that her Susan, and 
not Colinette Gard, was engaged to marry Willie 
Klatz. She insisted upon getting up and into her 
dressing-gown and going down to Colinette’s camp 
to see that she was home safe and sound. When 
they discovered the deserted condition of said 
camp it was uphill work for Willie to stem the 
hue and cry with an unbelievable story of Neal 
Brackley’s descending like a wolf on the fold and 
abducting Colinette. But in time he managed to 
convince them. 

“Why didn’t you tell me when we were on our 
walk?” demanded Susan, none too pleased with 
Willie’s reticence in regard to the piratical action 
of Captain Brackley. 

“I wanted first to settle this other matter be¬ 
tween you and me,” owned Willie sheepishly. 

“You waited until Colinette ran away and left 
you before you came back to me,” accused Susan. 
Willie was feign to make a joke of it and 
chuckled “that was about the size of it,” and 
“they could both see how broken-hearted he was, 
couldn’t they?” 

Afterwards he insisted upon celebrating their 
engagement, and the last night of their gipsying 
by building a huge bonfire, around which they sat 
and made plans for the future. 

“We are going to have a nice comfy home with 
a room in it always for you, Mrs. Dunlap. And 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


274 

when things get thick around your place, you are 
coming to us till the storm clears away. I know 
how things have been over at your house, and I’ve 
always just longed to be in a position where I’d 
have authority to say a few words. Now I shall 
be, and it’s a good thing that Dunlap has had this 
chance to practice home cooking, for he and El¬ 
mer will probably have a lot of it to do before 
they strike their proper gait.” 

Susan drew near to Willie and slid her hand 
into his, remembering one certain night when her 
former lover had advised her that in marrying her 
he wanted her to understand that he “wasn’t 
marrying the whole Dunlap family.” 


XXI 


“I hardly know where to begin,” hesitated 
Colinette. 

“Begin with Susan,” prompted her grand¬ 
mother. “How is young Susan?” 

“You would be surprised to see how well she 
is,” declared Colinette, brightening in announcing 
the good news. “There is nothing like free air 
and—love to bring’a girl back to health.” 

“Seems to have done you good although it ain’t 
improved your complexion any,” sniffed grand¬ 
mother scornfully. Knowing what she did, she 
did not approve of Colinette’s shameful flaunting 
of her love affair here in the face of Neal Brack- 
ley. 

“Oh I’ve had air, but not much—love. Love 
doesn’t seem to be my metier.” 

“What is that—metier?” inquired grand¬ 
mother, still in a querulous mood. 

“I don’t know—exactly,” owned Colinette, “but 
it is a nice word, I think, and it is used quite often 
now in the better magazines.” 

“If you just as lief,” said Grandmother Gard, 

“I wish you’d use plain, everyday English. It’s 

275 


276 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

goin’ to be hard enough for you to clear things up 
anyhow.” 

“It makes me mighty happy—your saying 
that, Colinette,” declared Neal, and Mrs. Gard 
looked at him in bewilderment. “Then it was 
Susan—” 

Colinette interrupted him again. “I’ll tell you 
everything from the beginning.” 

“No, no, not from the beginning,” begged her 
grandmother, and now it was Neal’s turn to look 
surprised. For a moment Mrs. Gard showed 
signs of retiring into grief and her apron again, 
and Neal could see no reason for her distress. 

“Well then, I’ll begin with my coming home to 
Redmoon.” Her grandmother heaved a sigh of 
relief and settled back to listen. 

“Word reached me—it makes no difference 
how—that my Cousin Susan was seeing a good 
deal of Jeff Plummer, and that there was no 
doubt but that she was going to marry him. I 
was never so unhappy in my life. Susan! My 
dear Susan, whom I loved—why, next to you, 
grandmother—” 

“I don’t believe you love me very much, or you 
wouldn’t contrary me so all the time,” complained 
Mrs. Gard. 

With a look which registered itself forever in 
Neal Brackley’s mind, Colinette leaned over and 
touched the back of the old woman’s hand. 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 277 

“I made up my mind/’ went on Colinette, “to 
come home and see what I could do to—” 

“Then you did do it a purpose!” exclaimed Mrs. 
Gard. “You did come home and upset Susan's 
affair and almost kill her! Why, Colinette, what 
makes you act so?” 

Colinette looked so unhappy that Neal felt sorry 
for her. He tried to lighten the situation with 
a joke. 

“She's bad through and through, grandmother. 
You can’t manage her alone; you need help—” 

“I should a thought you'd felt pretty bad when 
you saw what you had done; when you saw Susan 
tumble right into bed sick, and pretty near go to 
her grave—” 

“I did feel terribly, grandmother, oh, terribly. 
But I kept saying over and over, 'men have died 
and worms have eaten them, but not for love.’ ” 

“Eh?” said grandmother. 

“Would you mind going into particulars in re¬ 
gard to your method?” requested Neal with a 
tinge of sarcasm in his voice. 

“I had no method,” Colinette hastened to assure 
him, “I just came—I was different—” 

“Yes, we all agree as to that.” 

“Agree to what?” 

“That you are different.” 

“I mean that mine was a fresh face. Men like 
Jeff Plummer are always attracted by something 






278 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

dif—well, something that they have no business 
to be attracted by. When Jeff is married he will 
leave his wife to rock the baby while he walks out 
with the new milliner or the maid of all work/’ 

“Then you walked out with him?” demanded 
Neal. 

“She never did,” broke in Mrs. Gard, coming to 
the rescue gallantly when she saw signs of her 
beloved getting into difficulties. 

“You tell me then, grandmother,” pleaded Neal, 
“what did she do?” 

“As near as I can figger out the worst thing 
she did was to dance with him (Susan don’t 
dance) at that there firemen’s ball; she danced 
with him and looked pretty, I s'pose, and let him 
talk to her about things he knows, base-ball and— 
well, that’s about all I guess, ain’t it, Colinette? 
I guess that’s all Jeff knows, ain’t it?” 

“And hunting on Dahinda Marsh,” prompted 
Colinette, “that was all.” 

“Do you mean to say that he broke his engage¬ 
ment with Susan Dunlap for no better reason 
than that Colinette let him talk to her and dance 
with her? Why, that was only common polite¬ 
ness.” 

“That was all.” Colinette seemed eager to de¬ 
fend herself. “I was just commonly polite.” 

“And uncommonly pretty,” supplemented Neal. 

“Which she ain’t now,” said grandmother. “I 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 279 

can't bear to see that brown stuff on your face. 
I do wish you’d go and wash up." 

“When I have finished my explanation," per¬ 
sisted Colinette. “When they had had their 
quarrel, Susan and Jeff, and mind you, they would 
have had it just the same if I had been in Africa, 
only it would have happened after their marriage 
—Susan fell sick and I was dreadfully frightened 
and oh, dreadfully unhappy! To see Susan’s eyes 
full of hatred for me when I loved her so! And 
to feel so uncertain as to whether my plan would 
work out right—oh, if I were to talk until noon I 
couldn’t tell you the half of what I suffered at 
that time—" A pitiful tremor shook Colinette’s 
utterance. 

“Then, at the psychological moment, enter the 
hero, Willie Klatz in a blaze of glory. I never 
was so glad to see a person before in my life. 
Willie and I had a talk and we made up a plan. 
I wasn’t sure it would work, and Willie was de- 
pressingly skeptical—Willie knows so little about 
girls. But he loves Susan, always has and al¬ 
ways will. The problem was to get Susan to love 
Willie, even more than she had ever loved Jeff 
Plummer. 

“You understand, Neal, that 1 couldn’t talk 
to grandmother about this trouble, because her 
motto differs so from mine, and this was a case 
where undiluted honesty wasn’t—the most effi- 


2(8o 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


cient remedy— Wait a moment, please, grand¬ 
mother, I know what you were about to say. But 
Susan was due to be fooled by somebody, and I 
thought it might better be me than Jeff Plummer. 

“Willie left everything to me. He let me cap¬ 
tain the affair. I explained to him as well as I 
could my theory of love. I said, ‘All girls love 
a hero. Jeff is a great hero—on the diamond. 
And girls love a man /whom other girls love. It 
was the triumph of Susan’s life when she won 
Jeff Plummer away from Lila Merton.’ I said, 
‘Willie, if you want Susan you must make love 
to Colinette.’ ” 

“Heavy work—heavy work for Willie,” sighed 
Neal. 

Colinette ignored the interruption and went on 
with her confession: 

“There was one complication which I had not 
confessed even to Willie—a letter from Captain 
Neal Brackley announcing that he would be here 
on such and such a date—well—I don’t know as 
I can go on.” 

Colinette fell silent and sat twisting her hands 
in her lap, but as neither Neal or her grandmother 
seemed inclined to help her out, she took up her 
story again: 

“I suggested to Willie that we go on a camp¬ 
ing trip and get lost—good and lost—and Willie 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 281 

approved. We didn’t dream how much skill it 
would require for us to keep lost. I thought per¬ 
haps Jeff Plummer might wheel about looking for 
us, but I never dreamed that all our relatives 
would take the trail as they did. I had tried to 
rope grandmother into the scheme—” 

“And didn’t you?” broke in Mrs. Gard, “Didn’t 
you rope me in to help you in your waywardness ? 
Didn’t I start out with you knowin’ well enough 
that the boiled potatoes I left in my pantry would 
be good and fresh when I got back to warm ’em 
up?” 

“You did that for Aunt Susan’s sake, grand¬ 
mother.” 

“Course I did, but it wasn’t honest, just the 
same. It was an underhanded piece of business. 
And worse—she addressed her complaint to 
Neal—worse, she made me promise solemnly to 
have the rheumatism so bad that I couldn’t do a 
bit of cookin’ for Susan’s men folks. 1 promised, 
and, I tell you, what I’ve suffered from that fit of 
rheumatism that I didn’t have at all, no man 
knows but me! Couldn’t wait on myself free an’ 
above board, as I’ve always been in the habit of 
doin’; had to sneak out an’ steal my own kindlin’ 
wood, my own potatoes, my own onions. Why, 
I’ve got to be such a consummate thief through 
that rheumatic attack that the neighbors’ hens 



282 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


ain’t safe from me if I should be put to it. That’s 
the way sin works on a body. Why, I’ve come 
within one of tellin’ an’ out an’ out lie about my 
health two or three times. Folks would say, 
‘what’s the matter with you, Mrs. Gard?’ and 
Eve come near blurtin’ a lie right out and sayin’, 
‘I’m pretty bad off with the rheumatism.’ But 
I’ve always ketched myself in time. I’ve never 
slipped clean over into the pit in that line.” 

“What did you tell them?” beamed Colinette, 
attempting to put an arm around her grand¬ 
mother’s neck in her enthusiasm. 

Grandmother released herself from the prof¬ 
fered embrace. “Don’t put them dirty little paws 
on me. When you git washed up I’ll be glad to 
have you hug me, but not as you are now. Why, 
I told ’em that Waldo Pickens and his wife 
thought it was the rheumatism, and that was the 
truth. They named it themselves and rubbed it 
in every time they saw me humpin’ round with' 
that old cane.” 

Neal’s laughter was hearty but injudicious. 
Colinette, whose position gave her a view of the 
Dunlap porch, realized this when too late, at least 
too late for Neal. Uncle Luther was consulting 
his thermometer. His hair was rumpled from 
recent contact with his pillow, his braces, not yet 
adjusted, swung loose behind, but his ear was 
attuned to unwonted noises in the neighborhood, 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 283 

and his eye rested suspiciously on the open win¬ 
dow under his mother-in-law’s porch from which 
emanated that sound of untimely mirth. 

Colinette swooped to gather up her discarded 
finery, and there was no sign of her in the house 
a few moments later when Dunlap entered. 

''Well hello, Brackley,” he cried in astonish¬ 
ment, ‘‘how did you get into town at this time of 
day?” He shook hands with Neal. “Well, how 
are you feelin’ this morning, Mother Gard ? Any 
trace yet? She been tellin’ you about the trick 
our folks have played on us—gone off an’ stayed 
off all summer?” Dunlap’s indignation pre¬ 
vented him from waiting for answers to any of 
his questions, which was a relief to those being 
questioned. “I stepped out to look at the ther¬ 
mometer and I saw Mother Gard’s winder open 
and I heard a man laugh inside the house. I 
thought it must be Doc. Merton. I thought 
Mother Gard had got worse in the night and sent 
for him by telephone. Yeh see, since John’s girl 
has rigged her out with a telephone and a bath¬ 
room and an ice-box, she’s as independent as a 
hawg on a lake. I wish John's girl would confine 
herself to takin’ care of her grandmother, an’ not 
slop over on to takin’ care of them that don’t 
need her. This carryin’ off my wife an’ Susan 
Taylor an’ keepin’ ’em off all summer is the most 
ridiculous trick she’s ever played yet, and that’s 


/ 


284 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

puttin’ it strong. If they’d let us know where 
they was so’s we could drop ’em a line in case 
Mother Gard should die or git worse or somethin’, 
but not a word! An’ we don’t know whether 
they’re travelin’ or campin’ or what they are doin’ 
or where they are. 

“They hadn’t been gone three days when I 
needed ’em and sent Elmer and Jeff Plummer out 
to bring ’em home. But they couldn’t find ’em. 
No sir! They found the car that they started 
out with laid up in a garage at Love joy. They 
must have took a train from Lovejoy an’ gone 
goodness knows where. 

“Then Waldo Pickens and his wife started out, 
me with ’em, and we circled around till a darned 
lyin’ gipsy put a lot of nonsense into Rinthy’s head 
about her house bein’ burned up and Helen’s leg 
broke, and so nothin’ to do but to make for home 
fast and furious. And when we got home, 
Waldo wouldn’t start out again, so there you are! 
Every day expectin’ 'em to heave in sight, and 
every day they don’t heave. I jocks, I ain’t goin’ 
to stand it much longer!” 

“How can you—ah—avoid standing it?” asked 
Neal. 

“They can’t stay away forever, and when they 
git home I’ll bet I’ll learn ’em!” 

“I don’t think you can do much to hurt Coli- 
nette,” boasted Mrs. Gard with a curl of the lip. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 285 

“Maybe not. But I bet I’ll learn them Susans 
where they git off! Huh! Doin’ a trick like 
this—all summer— Huh! And havin’ to eat 
Elmer’s biscuits—I tell you, I ain’t been used to 
this kind of work! When I marry a wife and 
support her I expect her to airn that support! 
Elmer’s gittin’ as thin as a rail, goin’ without pro¬ 
per victuals! An’ a nice lookin’ place our house 
is—dust an’ dirt everywhere—dirty dishes and 
dirty clothes! I’m just about fed up on this sort 
of thing!” 

Dunlap rose to go. “If Mother Gard had been 
in any kind of health she might have helped out 
some—made a batch of friedcakes now an’ then, 
or—somethin’; but she’s been laid up all summer. 
But what do you s’pose John Gard’s girl cares 
about that? Huh! Her gran’mother might be 
dead an’ buried for all she’d care—” 

“Now don’t lug me into that grouch of yours, 
Luther,” warned Mrs. Gard. “You ain’t heard 
me complain, have yeh? You ain’t got near 
enough to me the hull livin’ summer to hear 
whether I was complainin’ or not. I’d have been 
glad of an axe in my kindlin’ wood once in a 
while, or a back to bend over my potatoes, or an 
arm to unhitch a ham from the storeroom, but I 
didn’t git ’em. I’ve done all these things for my¬ 
self, and I ain’t complained—not once. In fact, 
I’ve been glad that your Susan and young Susan 






286 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


could git out and have a good time for once in 
their lives. Now let’s not air our family troubles 
any more before folks that ain’t interested in ’em. 
Neal, here, don’t care about ’em.” 

“How did you say you got here?” Luther de¬ 
manded again of Neal, and this time awaited the 
answer. 

“I came by motor car.” 

“Motor car—say, why don’t you take a whirl 
out round and see if you couldn’t run down Willie 
Klatz? I’d go with you, or Elmer—” 

Neal wagged a dissenting hand. “I’m a rotten 
detective. In times gone by I’ve tried running 
down Willie Klatz. It can’t be done. And I 
wouldn’t worry about them, Mr. Dunlap; they’ll 
come home all right one of these days—” 

“Worry about them? Huh! Not much! 
I’m worryin’ about myself and Elmer. No, as I 
say, I can’t punish John Gard’s girl nor Willie 
Klatz for this outrage, but them Susans—” 

“Better forgive the Susans too,” laughed Neal, 
and rose to shake hands with Mrs. Gard. “Have 
you been to breakfast, Mr. Dunlap? No? Then 
come down to the hotel and take breakfast with 
me—” 

Mrs. Gard made a spasmodic motion to object, 
but subsided at Neal’s earnest signal, given ovet 
Dunlap’s head. 

“I did intend to breakfast here with Mrs. Gard, 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 287 

but find her not up to entertaining just now, so 
come down and be my guest. Ell be up again for 
a short call before I leave town,” he explained to 
Mrs. Gard. 

While Dunlap was at his own house making a 
few additions to his toilet now that he was to 
breakfast at the hotel, Colinette came forth from 
her hiding to warn Neal not to mention her re¬ 
turn during his breakfast with Uncle Luther. 

“I'll manage to return some time during the 
day,” she said, “and after that be at home to my 
friends.” 

“But not, I hope, until after we have finished 
our explanations,” objected Neal. “Remember, I 
haven’t had a showdown at the explaining busi¬ 
ness yet.” And then he ran away laughing, to 
take his complacent guest in tow. 


XXII 


Roused by his father’s news of Neal Brackley’s 
presence at Mrs. Gard’s house, Elmer prepared a 
sketchy breakfast for himself and got across the 
road in time to interrupt that lady and her grand¬ 
daughter at their more attractive meal. His sur¬ 
prise at finding Colinette at home was unbounded. 
He accepted Mrs. Gard’s invitation to “set up’ 1 
and partook of gems, fried potatoes and coffee 
with an appetite which made his assertion that he 
had been to breakfast seem a feeble prevarication. 
During this morning gorge he put Colinette 
through a severe catechism. 

“Where was you?” 

“I?” 

“The whole bunch—ma, and Susan and all?” 

“Why, Elmer, where did we start for?” 

“You started to auto around and to camp, but 
you didn’t auto, for Jeff and I found your car 
at Lovejoy, and we tied it up there, and you didn’t 
go back after it, because we went back twice to 
find out. Now where was you?” 

“Do you mean to say you took that old car away 
from Lovejoy?” 


288 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 289 

“No, we tied it up so you couldn't take it away. 
We thought we’d find you that way.” 

“Joke on you, Elmer; that old car was no good, 
as Willie soon found out. We had to abandon 
it. But we did enjoy our ride so much; and our 
camping too. Did you and Jefif happen to pass 
a spring out at—now let me see where was that 
spring? It is so hard for me to remember direc¬ 
tions—we might have been in the moon for all 
I could describe it.” 

“You must have been in the moon, for we drove 
from—” 

Here Colinette passed him his seventh gem, 
and encouraged him to describe in detail the good 
roads which he and Jeff had encountered, the 
poor ones, the carburator trouble which had de¬ 
layed them at Greenfield, the disagreement with a 
farmer when they had run down a calf. 

It was a pleasant hour for Elmer who had, in¬ 
deed, been rather glad than otherwise at the length 
of the search Jeff had been moved to make. Jeff 
had paid all the bills. Later, when Jeff had gone 
out alone to finish his search, Elmer had sincerely 
desired his immediate success. 

“How the dickens is it that you are home and 
the rest not?” Elmer demanded, suddenly emerg¬ 
ing from the hypnotic state of description into 
which Colinette’s interest in his adventures had 
thrown him. 


290 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“I can’t tell when the others are due to arrive, 
but I think very soon.” 

“Well how did you—” 

“Have another gem, Elmer. I made ’em my¬ 
self—under grandmother’s supervision. Good, 
aren’t they ? Did you ever know of anybody who 
can make gems as grandmother makes ’em? 

He took the gem. “But how—” 

“Elmer, you might just as well save your 
breath,” broke in Mrs. Gard. “You know as 
well as I do that when Colinette makes up her 
mind not to tell a thing, wild horses couldn’t drag 
it out of her.” 

“Hasn’t she told you where they went and what 
made ’em stay so long?” 

“Not yet, but if she ever does, I’ll let you 
know. I don’t care particularly where they’ve 
been, now that she’s back agin all safe and the 
rest of ’em are on the way.” 

“But how—” 

“Some more coffee, Elmer, and do take this 
last gem to save it; otherwise it will go to the 
chickens. Now if you want to know where we 
went and what we did, you will have to ask Willie 
Klatz when he gets in. You see, managing the 
car as Willie did, he will be better able to describe 
our wanderings than I have been. I don’t sup¬ 
pose—really—that you can get much of an idea 
of our trip from what I have told you.” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


291 

“I should say I couldn’t/’ Elmer agreed 
heartily. 

When Elmer left, in place of going to work 
as he should have done, he went up to tell his 
Aunt Rinthy of Colinette’s return. He also met 
Gusta Klatz and Helen Pickens and broke the 
news to them. They all came at once to greet 
the adventurer. 

Mrs. Gard sat back in a glow of admiration at 
Colinette’s skill in conducting her interview with 
Aunt Rinthy. 

“And no lyin’ nuther,” she congratulated her¬ 
self, “not a lie so far as I can see. And it ain’t 
none of Aunt Rinthy’s business where they was. 
And if Colinette can keep from tellin’, and that 
without breakin’ the ninth commandment, why I 
don’t see where the harm is.” 

“I s’pose Elmer has told you all the news,” 
Aunt Rinthy suggested, after a wearisome de¬ 
scription of an automobile trip strangely devoid 
of high lights or shadows of adventure. “I 
s’pose he told you all about the weddin’?” 

“No!” exclaimed Colinette, welcoming this di¬ 
version as a felon welcomes the close of a “third 
degree” examination. It had not been easy stav¬ 
ing off Aunt Rinthy’s probings and Gusta Klatz’ 
more straightforward questions and Helen’s sud¬ 
den shafts of disturbing inquiry, all under the 
eye of Grandmother Gard, jealously on the look- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


292 

out for untruths. “No, he never told me a word 
about it.” 

“Ain’t Gram’ma Gard?” 

“She hasn’t had a chance. You see, Neal 
Brackley came up to call, and then Uncle Luther 
dropped in—” 

At the mention of her wronged brother’s 
name Aunt Rinthy also postponed her description 
of the wedding. 

“Well I guess your Uncle Luther talked tur¬ 
key to you, didn’t he?” 

“Not so—not so very much turkey.” 

“He didn’t? Well my land! He’s set in my 
house and jawed hours at a stretch. He’s 
threatened everything that a man could do to 
punish the whole bunch of you—” 

“What for, Aunt Rinthy?” asked Colinette in¬ 
nocently. 

“What for? Why, for runnin’ off this way 
and stayin’ away all summer! As he said, it 
wouldn't have been so bad if Gram’ma Gard 
hadn’t been laid up this way. But here she was, 
hobblin’ round and scursely able to drag in her 
own wood—” 

Colinette turned to her grandmother with a 
heavenly smile. “And did he and Elmer bring 
in your wood nights after they came home from 
work?” 

“Well now, not that nobody never noticed!” 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 293 

witnessed grandmother forcefully albeit with 
little attention to grammatical construction. “I 
guess I'd a gone pretty pinched for all that Elmer 
or his father have done for me since you’ve been 
away. I hired the Reedy boy to split my wood 
and the warmin’ up and tea-makin’ I’ve done on 
the oil stove. Oh I’ve got along all right, but as 
I told Elmer and Luther, I didn’t care to keep 
boarders under such conditions.” 

“You say he didn’t say a word to you when 
he was here this mornin’?” demanded Aunt 
Rinthy. 

“Well—he hasn’t seen me yet,” explained 
Colinette. 

“Oh, that accounts for it, then. He’s jawed 
and jawed. And he and Elmer has just hanted 
me. Breakfast or dinner or supper, one or 
t’other of ’em every day and every day. Why, 
if I could have run across Susan Dunlap I’d a 
drug her home by the hair of her head myself 
to git rid of them two hungry lummaxes hang¬ 
ing round. And worst of it was I’d never know 
when to expect ’em. I’d make a small cake in 
that little tin of mine—you know, gram’ma, that 
little fluted cake-tin of mine—and then, hurrah 
boys, here would come Luther or Elmer, or 
maybe both of ’em, and either me or Helen would 
have to go without our piece of cake. Because 
the hired man had to have his piece. It was aw- 



294 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

ful provoking! I made up my mind to go out on 
a trip myself and stay till Susan got home—” 

“I was thinking of that,” said Colinette softly. 
“Well, we started, but a gipsy that was camp¬ 
ing up there near that place where you folks left 
your car told me the awfullest pack of lies about 
what turrible things was happening here to home 
that I just made Waldo give up the trip.” 
Colinette’s gaze conveyed a sorrowful rebuke. 
“You did not attach any weight to the words 
of a gipsy fortune-teller—not really, Aunt 
Rinthy?” 

“No, I didn’t; but I’d paid her a dollar, 
and sometimes they do tell awful queer things. 
You remember that Mis’ Spencer that used to 
live down by the Milltown Bridge, don’t you 
gram’ma? Well, a gipsy told her once that she 
was goin’ to be a widow inside of five years, and 
then would marry a rich man—” 

Mrs. Pickens was off upon one of her pet 
stories, and before she finished Neal Brackley 
arrived, and Mrs. Klatz came puffing across the 
road to embrace the traveler, and to ejaculate, 
“Veil, veil, you youst see how it comes! Your 
rheumatism is a goot deal better now you got 
your girl back aindt it?” And Mrs. Gard, hast¬ 
ily annexing a forgotten cane, replied truthfully 
that it didn’t seem to be troubling her much any 
more. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


295 

Neal sat and listened politely to Aunt Rinthy’s 
detailed description of the Gertie Calkins’ wed¬ 
ding, hoping fervently that Mrs. Pickens would 
go soon, and that Mrs. Klatz would be moved to 
draw her call to a close. But these hopes were 
not to be realized, for Mrs. Gard asked every¬ 
body to stay to dinner and everybody accepted 
the invitation. 

Colinette, in a little green house-dress, flew 
about laying the cloth and bringing in the plates. 
She was somewhat wan, Neal decided, as if the 
strain of the last few hours visiting had been too 
much for her. Or was there, after all, a sorrow 
to her in the loves of Susan and Willie? There 
might be. And if there were, no one would ever 
know. It would be like Colinette to sacrifice her 
own heart for Susan— 

“Seems to me,” broke in Aunt Rinthy, her gim¬ 
let eyes attempting the secrets so well hidden 
behind Colinette’s sober mask, “seems to me 
campin’ out hasn’t agreed with you. You’re as 
thin as a shad. My sakes! If Helen got hollers 
like them under her cheek-bones I’d be afraid 
of T B ” 

Grandmother, who was bringing in a plate of 
butter, nearly let it slide to the floor while she 
stopped to gaze with startled intentness at 
Colinette. 

Neal’s worst fears were substantiated: Coli- 


296 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

nette was not happy—not at rest. Why was 
Colinette not happy? That Pickens woman was 
right; there were hollows in the girl’s cheeks. 
Good heavens! If only these neighbors—well- 
meaning of course—would go about their busi¬ 
ness and give him a chance to find out what was 
making Colinette unhappy! 

In place of dispersing, the company aug¬ 
mented. Waldo Pickens and Luther Dunlap 
came and immediately after dinner Jefif Plummer 
put in an appearance, and Neal went away in 
despair. 

“Pll come back this evening,” he promised 
Mrs. Gard 

“And mind you do,” she warned him, “al¬ 
though I don’t s’pose we can count on havin’ our 
talk out, for the probabilities are that the Susans 
will come steamin’ in tonight, and there’ll be all 
kinds of excitement around here.” 

“Well, sometime—” murmured Neal, bending 
above grandmother to whisper, “don’t let Jefif 
Plummer carry her off; I want her myself—” 

Grandmother looked so conscious and so star¬ 
tled that Aunt Rinthy’s curiosity was roused to 
the breaking point. But as Neal turned to her 
and shook hands with the same smiling defer¬ 
ence and little air of having secrets in common 
with her also, and when he held Helen’s hand 
so long, and only swept a bow across her shoulder 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


297 

at Colinette, Aunt Rinthy decided it was just 
his polite, cityfied way, and went back to her orig¬ 
inal theory that, for some reason not in any way 
connected with Neal Brackley, Colinette Gard 
“was fussed about somethin’,” most likely Willie 
Klatz and Susan Dunlap. 

There was no doubt in the mind of anyone 
present that Jeff Plummer “was fussed about 
somethin’,” nor what and who that something 
was. 

There is safety in numbers, and by reason of 
the house being full all the afternoon, everybody 
endeavoring to outstay all the others, Colinette 
was enabled to steer clear of entangling asser¬ 
tions or confessions. To Jeff Plummer she 
talked of the superiority of Canfield tires over 
all other makes when he wanted to talk of heart 
yearnings; to Aunt Rinthy she spoke always of 
Gertie Calkins’ wedding, even after that lady was 
sick of Gertie Calkins, her husband, the brides¬ 
maids and the color decorations. She wished to 
be told the real reason for Colinette’s preceding 
the other members of the auto party in her return 
home. Uncle Waldo Pickens accused Colinette 
outright of “puttin’ ’em off with foolishness in¬ 
stead of answerin’ what they wanted to know.” 
Even Mrs. Klatz considered Colinette unwar¬ 
rantably secretive in regard to what was keeping 
her Willie away. 


298 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

Gusta was the only one who respected Col- 
inette’s very evident desire to remain silent as to 
what had taken place during her summer’s vaca¬ 
tion. She felt nothing but pity for the harassed 
Colinette. Gusta had her own theory, and it was 
that a feud existed between the cousins, the cause 
of which she believed to be her own dear brother 
Willie. 

“They both want him, and why shouldn’t 
they?” reflected the partial sister. “Such a fine 
fellow, and so straight and upstanding now since 
the War. And brave too. Yes, that’s the trou¬ 
ble with Colinette’s cheeks. He likes Susan best. 
He always has liked Susan. Poor little Co¬ 
linette 1” 


XXIII 


According to promise, Neal Brackley came to 
call again in the evening, but so did Jeff Plummer, 
the Klatz family, the Pickenses and the Dunlaps. 
The assemblage was given tone, also, by the 
presence of the doctor’s daughter, Lila Merton 
who, in Colinette’s absence, had been Gertie Cal¬ 
kins’ bridesmaid. The evening was so full of 
chatter about the wedding that three of the young 
men present were moved to wish that Gertie Cal¬ 
kins had never lived to grow up and marry. El¬ 
mer Dunlap wanted to continue his probings as to 
where they had been and how they had managed 
to elude so many searchers; Jeff Plummer wanted 
to carry Colinette off somewhere to explain, to 
implore—to make love as he had never made love 
before in his life. In case Colinette should de¬ 
clare his suit absolutely hopeless he wished to beat 
it back to Susan, who wasn’t half bad in the way 
of a match after all; Neal Brackley wanted to 
finish that very important interview with Coli¬ 
nette and her grandmother. 

All three young men were fated to disappoint¬ 
ment. At a ridiculously late hour they left the 
house together and parted coldly upon the walk, 

299 


3 oo THE GREEN EYED ONE 

each going his separate way with his separate 
want unsatisfied. 

The next morning Colinette went quite early 
to the store to “look things over/’ and it was at 
the shop door that Neal Brackley picked her up 
in his car and carried her out on the west road for 
a breath of air. After a surprisingly short ride 
they returned and he left her at the shop door 
again, and drove out of Redmoon at a furious 
pace towards Brandon, where the car belonged. 
Before he went he shook hands with Gusta and 
Helen Pickens and bade them good-by, announc¬ 
ing that he was leaving for good, and that he did 
not expect to see Redmoon again for many a long 
day. 

Helen followed Gusta into the stock-room and 
shut the door carefully behind her. 

“What do you think of that move?” she asked 
excitedly. 

“Don’t astonish me a bit,” returned Gusta, “I 
knew it would happen.” 

“You knew what would happen?” 

“Just what has happened this afternoon, that 
Neal Brackley would ask Colinette to marry him 
and that Colinette would refuse.” 

“Refuse Neal Brackley—whom every or any 
girl in Redmoon would jump at? You’re crazy, 
Gusta.” 

“Well, maybe.” 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


301 

“Colinette Card, with not a cent except what 
she earns by her work, to refuse Neal Brackley 
whose father is worth millions, and Neal his only 
child? You are awfully silly, Gusta.” 

“Of course you are at liberty to think so,” 
replied Gusta haughtily, “but I happen to know 
a few things.” 

“You think Colinette likes Willie Klatz, don’t 
you?” 

“I’m not telling everything I know.” 

“Do you think she will marry Willie?” 

“I’m not telling everything I know.” 

“You’re awful smart, aren’t you, Gusta? But 
let me ask you this: If there is anything be¬ 
tween Colinette and Willie, why did she come 
back alone from the camping trip and leave Willie 
and Sus and Aunt Susan still away?” 

This happening had been a great problem to 
Gusta, but it was not her intention to talk over 
these matters with an unsympathetic person like 
Helen Pickens. When her brother Willie got 
home she meant to ask him frankly about many 
things which Colinette had kept so tantalizingly 
to herself, and she believed that Willie would tell 
her. 

Meanwhile Grandmother Gard knew nothing of 
Colinette’s ride with Neal Brackley. Every time 
a step sounded on the walk, or her front door 
opened she expected to see the smiling face of the 


302 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

young man whom she loved next to Colinette 
herself. And she also watched eagerly for the 
return of the Susans and Willie Klatz, Their 
prolonged—their unexplainable absence was now 
getting upon her nerves almost as seriously as it 
was upon the nerves of the Dunlaps and Pic¬ 
kenses. She wanted to make her sweet cucum¬ 
ber pickles; she wanted to make cookies and fried- 
cakes and pies against the return of her daughter. 
She trembled when she thought of the unpleasant¬ 
ness bound to occur between Susan and her hus¬ 
band upon Susan’s return. Anything she could 
do to mitigate the situation in a culinary way she 
was eager to accomplish. 

But as soon as she measured out flour for pies 
or friedcakes, a motor car would whiz by and 
she would hurry to the front window expecting 
to see it drawn up before the Dunlap door and the 
welcome figures of the Susans descending from 
it. 

At night Colinette walked up with the other 
two girls and stood talking with them a moment 
before she turned to her own door. Her grand¬ 
mother, watching her from behind the Notting¬ 
ham curtains of the front window, felt a sudden 
anger at the girl arise within her. 

“If she thinks I’m goin’ to bother about her 
affairs while she takes matters so easy, she’ll find 
she’s mistaken,” she muttered. “She don’t seem 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


303 

to care to say where she thinks Willie Klatz and 
the Susans are, and worse, she don’t seem to care 
whether she ever sees Neal Brackley agm or not. 
Well, I ain’t settin’ my cap for Neal; it’s her job, 
t’ain’t mine, now let her go her gait. I won’t 
mention any of ’em till she does.” 

And so, although to keep silent on the burning 
questions haunting her was almost more than she 
could bear, she adhered to her resolution. Co- 
linette helped with the supper, chucked her grand¬ 
mother under the chin, told a funny story about 
Mrs. Brinker buying a hat and insisting on wear¬ 
ing it hind side before, and talked most fluently 
upon the subject of fancy feathers—whether or 
not they would be worn at all during the coming 
season. After the dishes were washed she went 
away down to the studio to take a look at her 
picture. 

Mrs. Gard felt as if she should burst; as if 
she could not endure another hour of solitude; 
another hour of listening for a step which never 
came, or the purr of an automobile which per¬ 
sistently refused to purr. 

“I never could stand it to wait for folks,” she 
grumbled, “I just never could. When John Gard 
used to go to town I could wait till the hour when 
he ought to come; after that I just fumed!” 

She still wished to hold out against talking to 
Colinette a while longer, but if Colinette came up 


304 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


from the studio soon and the two of them passed 
the evening alone together, she doubted her ability 
to do so. And so, although she had not been out¬ 
side of her own yard all summer, she put her 
knitted shawl about her shoulders and traveled 
up the road to the Pickenses’. 

“Well for the land!” greeted Mrs. Pickens, 
“way up here and without your cane! Seems to 
me you got over your rheumatiz about the quickest 
of anybody I ever see!” 

“I’m glad to walk out agin,” replied Mrs. Gard, 
and accepted the chair which Aunt Rinthy 
brought forth for her. 

Mrs. Gard was thankful that Waldo was not 
at home. He had gone down town to his lodge. 
Helen was crocheting by the west window. 

“Well,” began Mrs. Pickens, smiling flatly, 
“don’t it beat the band that they don’t show up?” 

Mrs. Gard owned freely that it did beat every¬ 
thing. 

“Why don’t you just pry it out of Colinette 
why they don’t show up?” 

“She don’t know any more’n we do.” 

“Oh pshaw! I bet she does.” 

“No she don’t, nuther. She said last night she 
thought sure they’d be home before bedtime.” 

“But why—” 

Mrs. Gard held up a protesting hand. “Don’t 
ask me why anything happens or why anything 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


305 

don’t happen. I don’t know nothin’ any more.” 

“Where’s Colinette tonight? Why didn’t she 
come up with you? She ain’t put her head in¬ 
side our door since she come back.” 

“She ain’t had time yet, Rinthy. She had to 
go down to the store that she owns half of to see 
how things are cornin’ along there—” 

“She isn’t at the store now,” Helen informed 
them with a jerk of her shoulders. 

“No, she come home to supper, washed the 
dishes, and then went down to her studio to take 
a look at her paintin’—” 

“She isn’t at the studio now,” repeated Helen 
with a provoking, parrot-like monotony of tone. 

“If you know where she is so well what are 
you askin’ me for?” demanded Mrs. Gard, at the 
end of her endurance. 

She rose to go. She felt a desire to get home 
and scold Colinette. Either that, or to drop on 
her knees by the side of her own peaceful bed and 
ask the Lord to guide her into ways of sanity and 
light. She had tried her best to be patient and 
to do right yet the affairs of her life seemed to 
be tangling themselves inextricably. She told 
herself bitterly that she should have known better 
than to come up here hoping for comfort. 
“From time everlastin’ the Pickenses had ready 
to rub salt into sore spots.” 

Helen proceeded to carry this rubbing process 



306 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

to a climax with a refinement of cruelty hitherto 
unknown even to the Pickenses. 

“No,” she said, “she isn't at the store and she 
isn’t at the studio; she’s out motoring with Jeff 
Plummer. I saw them drive by here over half 
an hour ago.” 

Aunt Rinthy’s smile spanned her face. Her 
little nose tilted at Mrs. Gard like a spiteful little 
lance. Her glasses shone with satisfaction. 
Helen was “giftin’ in her work” and Mrs. Pic¬ 
kens gloried in it. 

“And that isn’t the only young man she has 
gone riding with today either.” Helen made the 
announcement after a pause long enough to en¬ 
hance its effectiveness, “she was out this after¬ 
noon for just a little while with Mr. Neal Brack- 
ley. He stopped for her with his car. He didn’t 
stay out long, though; he didn’t have time. He 
has left town for good. He bade Gusta and me 
good-by and he said he wasn’t coming back to 
Redmoon for a long time, maybe never.” 

Mrs. Gard wondered if she dare get upon her 
feet and attempt locomotion. She felt so frozen 
that she feared if she moved her bones would 
creak and break in pieces. For the first time in 
her life she felt the burden of age, of incoin- 
petency, of the reality that her generation had 
passed, and that the young of her kind merely 


l THE GREEN EYED ONE 307 

tolerated her. Susan and Colinette had both 
ceased to take her prejudices into account. They 
swept on with their lives without consulting her. 
For the first time in all her sturdy years she felt 
that she wouldn’t mind dying. 

She possessed no power to hide her feelings 
from her tormentors, as Colinette would have 
done. She merely stumbled forth and took the 
road home with the instinct of the wounded 
animal for her own lair and solitude. 

She did not care—now, when Colinette came 
in. Why should she care? There she had been 
expecting Neal and Colinette to come to her to 
finish out the interrupted interview; had expected 
Neal to ask Colinette to marry him right before 
her. What a fool she had been! Had folks 
done their courting that way when she was 
young? 

But she had imagined that her relation to 
Colinette and to Neal Brackley had been a little 
different—a little nearer and more intimate than 
most old folks with the young of their clan. 
What a fool she had been! They had taken the 
first chance to steal away and settle their love 
affairs out of her sight and hearing. 

But why had they done so ? she asked herself a 
dozen times on her way down the hill. And why 
had Neal gone away without bidding her good-by ? 



308 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

And what was Colinette doing off riding with 
that Plummer without a word to her ? And why, 
and why? 

She had expected Colinette to be at home when 
she arrived, but she knew the moment she opened 
the door that the house was empty. That queer 
irresponsiveness which creeps into a house empty 
of the one you wish were there, rushed out over 
the threshold to greet her. Her anger was 
gone now, but her grief was near to choking 
her. 

She left the front door ajar and went through 
the house to her own bedroom where she knelt 
beside her bed. She did not consciously pray, 
but she was there, at her Master's feet with her 
burden of age and jealousy and loneliness. Those 
who should have remembered her had forgotten 
and ignored her, but God had not. 

Presently the floodgates of her soul were 
opened. She asked forgiveness if she had been 
too exacting—too arrogant with the child she 
loved. She asked to be helped to remember that 
she was old, to remember that younger folk had 
a right to take their problems into their own 
hands and settle them their own way. 

A great comfort stole over her; a shamed con¬ 
viction that she had been making a mountain out 
of a very small hummock in her life road. Angry 
and hurt because Colinette had gone riding with 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


309 

Neal Brackley, and afterwards with Jeff Plum¬ 
mer without telling her ? Ridiculous! 

Yes—but to put her in a position where the 
Pickenses could hector her—that was cruel! It 
had been Aunt Rinthy’s provoking smile and 
Helen’s triumph over Colinette’s neglect of her 
which had hurt. 

But—wasn’t it her own pride and selfishness 
which had been hurt ? 

“Forgive, dear Lord! Make me a better 
woman!” she finished, and rose from her knees 
comforted. If Colinette and Susan had sinned 
in their treatment of her, who loved them, then 
that was their problem, not hers; her one care 
must be to look after her own shortcomings. 

She lighted the lamp and looked about for her 
last number of the Family Record. There was 
a sermon in that last number which she had 
started to read and then had put aside to read 
aloud to Colinette, but the time had not come 
when they two were alone and in the mood for 
sermons. Now it might not come at all. She 
would wait no longer, but read it to herself. 

Suddenly there sounded out in front the noises 
for which she had listened so constantly of late. 
She dropped her magazine and hurried to the 
front door. Two cars were at her front walk 
and people were getting out. She heard her 
daughter Susan’s voice, and young Susan’s high, 


310 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

breezy laughter; she heard the voice of Willie 
Klatz, and a moment later the commingled shouts 
of welcome from Willie’s mother and sister as 
they came running across the road. She heard 
the door of the Dunlap house burst open and the 
clatter of masculine shoes on the walk told that 
the scrimmage was about to begin. Mrs. Gard 
walked down into the midst of what resembled a 
surprise party. 

“Well, Luther, how be you?” inquired his wife, 
approaching him with her accustomed air, that of 
the spaniel who has been caught killing chickens. 

“Mighty little you care how I be!” rasped out 
that injured gentleman. 

Willie Klatz who had finished greeting his own 
folks, turned with a peculiar expression to Luther 
Dunlap. 

“We’ll go into Mrs. Card’s to talk things over,” 
he announced quite as if his word was law. 


XXIV 

H f 

Jeff Plummer, to whom the second machine 
belonged, did not accept Mrs. Gard’s polite in¬ 
vitation to make one of the party. He bade his 
late passenger good night with a sullen air and 
wheeled away, not even returning the facetious 
greetings of Elmer Dunlap, his friend and fellow 
adventurer. 

When Elmer got into the Gard parlor after his 
unsuccessful effort to have speech with Jeff 
Plummer, nobody had settled into a chair as yet 
and the room seemed full. Colinette took Susan 
by the hand and advanced with her to Mrs. Gard. 

“A lady whom you have never met before, 
grandmother,” Colinette announced with shining 
face, “Mrs. Willie Klatz ” 

There was a squeal of joy from Willie’s sister, 
a decidedly Teutonic exclamation from Willie’s 
mother, and then for an instant a silence so tense 
that the clock was distinctly heard ticking, for 
neither Elmer nor Luther Dunlap had said a 
word, nor had Mrs. Gard. 

“And this,”—Colinette led forth Willie—“is 

your grand-son-in-law.” 

311 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


312 

Willie broke the spell. In his pride and hap¬ 
piness, he laughed loudly, took Grandmother Gard 
in his arms and smacked her heartily first on one 
cheek and then on the other. 

“First time I ever had a grandmother,” he re¬ 
joined. “Well, grandmother, what do you think 
of my wife?” 

He shook hands first with his stepfather-in-law, 
then with Elmer, then led his bride to his mother 
and stood by exultantly while the demonstrative 
embrace took place. 

“Oh, Sue,” cried Gusta, “can it really be that 
you are my sister? Oh Sue, I'd rather have you 
for my sister than anybody else on earth!” 

Grandmother stole a glance at Colinette, and 
what she saw put to rest forever any doubts as 
to that young person’s approval of Sue’s mar¬ 
riage. Colinette’s face wore the same expres¬ 
sion it had when she gazed at that painting of the 
Pickenses’ chicken-house and pronounced it good. 

Mrs. Gard thought there ought to be a meal of 
some sort, but it seemed that everybody had 
dined except Luther and his son. Remembering 
this, Luther remembered his grouch, and started 
in with the task he had determined upon, of mak¬ 
ing the world disagreeable for his women folk— 
Good gracious! he had only one poor scrawny 
little woman folk to lord it over now; young Su¬ 
san was forever out of his power. He could 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 313 

neither discipline her nor make her useful as a 
household drudge. Susan was married, and mar¬ 
ried without bringing any special honor to him. 
Not married into the Plummer family, but simply 
married to Willie Klatz, Waldo Pickens’ hired 
man. He could have throttled that jubilant, vic¬ 
torious young giant. He turned to his wife with 
a snarl. He would “take it out” on her. 

“Well, come along home! High time too. 
The next time you git away on an all summer’s 
trippin’ around while I stay to home an’ work I’ll 
bet you’ll know it. Now that you are home I 
want a decent supper!” 

“Oh no—oh no,” chimed in Willie Klatz, “no 
supper-getting for Mother Dunlap tonight. 
We’ve been kind of humoring her to laziness this 
summer, and you notice, don’t you, how nice and 
plump she is? No getting supper for her at this 
time in the evening.” 

“Because you’ve married my wife’s daughter, 
you ain’t married the hull family,” bristled 
Luther. 

“You bet I have!” declared Willie with an iip- 
rorious burst of laughter, a burst which somehow 
swept Luther off his feet. “I’ve just up and mar¬ 
ried the whole allotment. Anyhow, you’ll be sur¬ 
prised how much I’m going to butt in on family 
affairs. When I’m unreasonable with my Susan 
she’s going to run away to your house, and when 



THE GREEN EYED ONE 


314 

you are unreasonable to your Susan she’s cal¬ 
culating to avail herself of the same privilege at 
my house. We’ve framed that all up solid while 
we were out riding around the country this 
summer. Isn’t that straight, mother?” 

“I guess it is,” assented Mrs. Dunlap with one 
enlightening look at her husband. 

Then the truth was borne in upon the soul of 
Luther Dunlap. His power over his wife as well 
as over her child was broken forever. This son- 
in-law of Susan’s would have a word to say now, 
and he would not be at all backward about saying 
it. Why, there was a chance that his wife might 
leave his house forever and go to live with the 
young Klatzes. Horrible! And endless proces¬ 
sion of breakfasts such as he had been obliged to 
put up with of late, the awful dinners and worse 
suppers; dust gathering on everything, his shirts 
getting to look more and more like the mop, and 
his buttons always off. And more bitter than 
all, no one to “take it out on” except Elmer who 
threatened to “roll his own” if his father didn’t 
mend his ways. 

Suddenly Luther turned with an ingratiating 
smile to his wife who smiled back with such quick 
forgiveness for sins past and to come that it 
warmed the cockles of his heart. Luther Dun¬ 
lap was one who could do things and endure 
things when he was quite sure that he had to. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 315 

Who wants to walk up with me and break the 
news to the Pickenses?’’ challenged Colinette. 

“You’re too late,” said Grandmother Gard, 
“Elmer’s up there by this time.” 

It was even so, for the entire Pickens family 
arrived a moment later. 

“Well for the land!” cried Aunt Rinthy, peck¬ 
ing at the bride’s rosy cheek with thin lips, “I 
didn’t s’pose you’d marry a German, Susan 
Taylor.” 

“Oh I’d marry the kaiser if he were as good 
as Willie,” said Susan. 

“Well, I don’t see what your ma is goin’ to do 
\vithout you.” 

“She isn’t going to have to do without me. 
Wherever I am my ma is going to be a good deal 
of the time.” 

“I guess there is somebody else to have a word 
to say about that now, ain’t there, Willie?” 

“What my wife says goes, all the year round,” 
Willie assured Aunt Rinthy. 

“They all talk that way when they’re first 
married,” put in Helen with a rigid smile. She 
was well enough satisfied, however, with Susan’s 
marriage. She would not have married Willie 
Klatz herself. She did not understand how Su¬ 
san had brought herself to do it, unless it was out 
of spite toward Jeff Plummer. Of course that 
was it. She considered Susan foolish to have 


316 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

been so hasty because, if Jeff did not succeed in 
getting Colinette, ten to one he would have re¬ 
turned to his old love. But it was too late for 
that now, and Susan was out of the way of other 
girls who might stand a show with Jeff. 

“Well, Willie, you’d better make up your mind 
to come back and work for me now,” advised 
Waldo Pickens, “you won’t have the face to ask 
the Plummers for your old job after stealin’ a 
march on Jeff this way. And a married man has 
to keep a humpin’ himself, I tell you; different 
irom having no one but yourself to look out for.” 

“Ho,” said Willie, “Pm not intending to work 
any more; Pm going to live out of the millinery 
store. If Sue and Gusty can’t work hard enough 
to support a little fellow like me they ought to be 
ashamed of themselves.” 

Somehow the laughter of the company irritated 
Mrs. Pickens. They were too happy, too well 
satisfied all around. 

“It beats me!” she sighed, “a girl goin’ away 
to get her health—too sick to set up alone, and 
for all I’ ve ever been told, engaged to one man, 
and cornin’ back as healthy as a steer in a corn¬ 
field and married to another.” 

“Just like a story, isn’t it?” smiled Colinette. 
“Sue went away, not really engaged to Jeff Plum¬ 
mer but sort of tangled up with him—Jeff—a man 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


3i7 

who will never make any woman happy—and 
now—” 

“And now I s’pose somebody else will try to 
make Jeff happy; untangle Jeff, so to speak, and 
soothe his ruffled feelings.” 

“Oh Jeff isn’t ruffled any more,” Colinette as¬ 
sured her. “Jeff can see a joke. For instance, he 
turned in tonight and helped to pry the newly¬ 
weds out of a scrape they got into up at Ray¬ 
mond, that little town just the other side of Lake 
Jane—shall I tell?” She looked at Willie and at 
Susan and at Mrs. Dunlap, all of whom made 
believe they did not want the joke told, but showed 
by their manner that they would not be very much 
put out if it were. 

“Well, after we abandoned our first machine at 
Love joy—” 

“Then you had another machine?” Uncle 
Luther was on the scent of the lost trail now. 

Colinette smiled at him but did not answer his 
question. “After we left the old machine where, 
it seems, Elmer and Jeff 'tied it up’ as they called 
it, we had no more use for it until we needed it 
to bring us home. But when we took our machine 
and came away what did the garage man do but 
send an officer after us (I say ‘us’ because I was 
still virtually of the party although already at 
home) and arrest Willie at Raymond. So there 



318 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

he was, stalled at Raymond, ten miles from home. 

“Willie sent a boy down with a message to 
Jeff Plummer—” 

“No, I didn’t,” interrupted Willie. “That 
sheriff was going to haul us all back to Lovejoy 
and that pretty soon. I didn’t know whether Jeff 
would see his way clear to come up and pry us 
loose or not, but I thought Colinette might be able 
to persuade him to come, so I sent the note to her, 
and in less than an hour there she was with the 
goods. She had Jeff on a leash as docile as a 
setter dog, and the Lovejoy sheriff went home a 
disappointed man.” 

When the party had broken up and the Pic¬ 
kenses had reached their own home, Aunt Rinthy 
snapped on the light and took off her head wrap. 
“It’s as plain as day which way the cat is goin’ 
to jump,” she announced to her assembled fam¬ 
ily. “She has sent young Brackley off with a 
flea in his ear, and she’s got well rid of Susan— 
marryin’ her cff to our hired man that was—” 

Waldo Pickens turned from the dark passage 
wdiich led to the kitchen where he had just hung 
up his hat. “Rinthy, are you fool enough to be¬ 
lieve that anybody as sharp as John Gard’s girl 
would throw a million over her shoulder for any 
Plummer that ever lived? You must be crazy!” 

Helen twirked her neck. “You can’t tell a 
thing about Colinette Gard,” she reminded her 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 319 

father. “Colinette Gard would not let a million, 
or two million, even, stand between her and a man 
she happened to fancy. Colinette is notional, but 
she isn’t mercenary. She would never marry for 
money.” 

Down at Mrs. Gard’s that lady locked her front 
door behind her last guest and went into the kit¬ 
chen to wind the clock. Colinette sat—or rather 
lay—in the “other rocking-chair,” her eyes fixed 
on nothing in particular, her attitude that of a 
runner who has earned perfect relaxation and is 
taking it. Her grandmother came back to the 
patent rocker and began to untie her shoes. She 
had resolved to maintain absolute silence toward 
Colinette, as Colinette had toward her. But si¬ 
lence and repression was not in the Gard nature. 

“Well,” she demanded, “a penny for your 
thoughts.” 

Colinette smiled at her sleepily. “I was won¬ 
dering,” she began softly, “if the snow would 
really fly off the roof of the Pickenses’ chicken- 
house in a straight line, the way I have painted it, 
no matter how high the wind might be. What 
do you think, grandmother?” 

The shoe which grandmother had already 
loosened flew halfway across the parlor in her im¬ 
patience. She began to whip the laces through 
the eyelets of the remaining shoe in a manner 
which bade fair to dislocate every tip. 



320 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


“What difference does it make whether the 
snow flies off the Pickenses’ hen-house in a 
straight line or jumps up and down like a streak 
o’ lightnin’! Seems funny that you can talk and 
think of such pifflin’ things when—when—” 

“When what, dear?” 

“When things are a happenin’ around us! 
Don’t you care nothin’ about your old gram’ma 
any more, that you don’t talk things over with 
her—just set and think about Pickenses’ hen¬ 
house and never—” 

“What do you mean, grandmother? Here, let 
me untie that shoe. You are just ruining your 
laces—” 

“Git away! I’ll untie my own shoes! I may 
be too old an’ out of date to be told young folks’ 
secrets any more, but I can undress myself yet a 
spell.” 

“What have I done that’s wrong, grandmother? 
Please tell me.” 

“You went off with Jeff Plummer and stayed 
till after nine o’clock and never told me you was 
goin’—just let me set here and sizzle till you saw 
fit to come back.” 

“But Willie and Susan were arrested, and in¬ 
stead of roaming home in triumph as I had ex¬ 
pected, were to be carried back to Love joy and 
maybe to jail. I had to rush Jeff Plummer right 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


321 

up to Raymond to ‘untie' that old machine that he 
and Elmer had lied about.” 

“Don’t you know that your goin’ off with Jeff 
that way will make him think you are dead in love 
with him and want to ketch him? Maybe you 
do want to ketch him for all I know.” 

“No, we settled that on the way up to release 
Willie.” 

“Settled it?” 

“Yes. Jeff asked me to marry him, and I told 
him gently but firmly, what I thought about him. 
He was sorry, of course, but, I thought, at the 
same time rather relieved and made up his mind 
at once to go back to Susan. From something he 
said about her after—after I had refused him, I 
think that was his intention. He begged me never 
to tell Susan that he had asked me to marry him, 
and I promised him that I never would, and I 
sha’n’t. You know, grandmother, that I always 
keep my promises. 

, “As Aunt Rinthy would express it, I never saw 
anybody so completely got as Jeff was when Willie 
presented him to his wife. Jeff had pictured 
Susan still languishing for love of him and will¬ 
ing to creep to his feet when he saw fit to whistle. 
Don’t you think it served Jeff right, grandmother, 
and aren’t you glad—oh, so glad, that Susan is 
the wife of a prince like Willie Klatz instead of 


322 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

a—cruel ignoramus like Jeff Plummer? Dear 
Susan! who for the first time in her life is to be 
loved and cherished as she deserves to be loved 
and cherished ?” 

Her grandmother ignored this angle of the 
matter and proceeded with her more serious com¬ 
plaint : 

“You went off ridin’ with Neal Brackley and 
settled up your affair with him without telling me 
a word about it, or finishing up the talk here to 
home the way you started out.” 

“I didn’t tell you about that because I thought 
it would make you sad. But I mean to tell you 
all about it when the time seemed right. Neal 
called for me at the shop and I went with him—” 

“Well—go on.” 

“And he asked me to marry him, and I told 
him—as you and I had agreed beforehand—that 
I should never marry anybody. And so he went 
away very sorry, oh, so very sorry—” 

“You told him we had agreed to any such thing? 
Why Colinette Gard, that was a whopper and you 
know it was a whopper! I never agreed that you 
wasn’t to marry Neal Brackley! I want you to 
marry him—” 

“But I can’t marry anybody, grandmother, so 
long as you hold me to that old promise. It 
wouldn’t be fair to Neal nor to any man. You 
said that I wouldn’t keep my promise never to 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


323 

tell; you were afraid the other day when we three 
sat talking here that I was going to tell. I told 
you then that I would never tell, and I never shall. 
And I told you also that, bad as I am, I would 
never deceive a man who was good enough to 
marry me, a man whom I loved and who had a 
right to expect perfect honesty in me.” 

“You told Neal Brackley that it was your 
gram’ma’s doin’s that you wouldn’t marry him ?” 

“No, I simply told Neal that I should never 
marry anybody; that I meant to devote my life to 
my profession. And he went away, sorry of 
course, but—he’ll get over being sorry very soon. 
We need not let that hurt us so very much, grand¬ 
mother. Men get over these things so quickly— 
oh, so quickly.” Colinette heaved a great sigh 
and dropped her chin in her hand. 

Mrs. Gard sat with her second shoe in her hand 
in a sort of stony anger. She seemed about to 
hurl it at her granddaughter. 

“And what about you?” she demanded at last 
in a hollow voice. 

The answer was a mere whisper. “Girls suf¬ 
fer a little—longer over such things, but they, 
too, get over it in time. I shall get over it—in 
nine or ten years; probably. Meanwhile you and 
I will be very happy here together. I shall paint 
pictures—” 

“No we won’t! I won’t have you round! I 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


324 

won’t harbor a girl with a heart as hard as an 
iron skillet! When a girl has a beau who loves 
her and that she loves—a boy as nice as Neal 
Brackley—mind you, I don’t say nothin’ about 
Neal’s prospects; I don’t care a rap for ’em—his 
pa’s money ain’t his and probably never will be— 
but I say, when a young chap as good as Neal 
wants a girl to marry him, it’s her place so to do! 
To take care of his house and mother his chil¬ 
dren—” 

A crimson tide welled up in the girl’s cheeks, 
suffused her neck and brow and died away almost 
instantly. “There’s the trouble, grandmother; 
the—possible children. A man—like Neal would 
be—sort of particular about his childrens’ grand¬ 
parents, wouldn’t he? At least a man like Neal 
would have a right to say whether he would be 
willing to take the chance—” 

Grandmother rose suddenly, swooped for her 
Gther shoe, and without a word, stumped away to 
bed in her stocking feet. Her bedroom door shut 
to with a bang. Colinette even fancied she heard 
the key turn on the inside. 

She assumed her former position, chin in hand, 
her attitude one of great dejection. In place of 
being flushed, her face was pale and the dark 
hollows showed in her cheeks. Then slowly she 
straightened up and a smile crept over her mouth, 





THE GREEN EYED ONE 325 

a smile deepening into silent laughter. She shook 
her head one, twice, three times, then softly went 
over to the whatnot, picked up a framed photo¬ 
graph of Mrs. Gard and kissed it fondly. 


XXV 


The next morning when Mrs. Gard came out of 
her room the fire was already blazing in the 
kitchen stove. Colinette greeted her shyly, con- 
ciliatingly. 

“Beat you to it this morning/’ she triumphed. 
It had long been a game between them, who 
should awake first and start the kitchen fire. 

Mrs. Gard’s lips twitched, but she remained 
silent. She realized that she was being coaxed 
out of her temper by the tactics of a frolicsome 
but offending pup. But she was determined not 
to be wheedled. 

After breakfast—a rather constrained meal al¬ 
though Colinette tried hard enough to be gay— 
Gusta and Susan, the latter gay and rosy and 
full of happy laughter, dropped in on their way 
to the shop. They carried Colinette away with 
them to help with the inventory before Susan and 
Willie went to the city for the new fall goods. 

“My last business trip to the city, so Willie 
says,” boasted Susan. 

“I’m going to town today some time, and if I 

ain’t here when you come home to dinner, just 

open that can of raspberries, and there’s cookies 

326 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


327 

in the jar in the cellarway,” Mrs. Gard instructed 
Colinette. “I may drop in to Sister Kize’s, and I 
may not be home before supper time, if then.” 

“It will be lonesome to come home and find you 
away,” sighed Colinette. “I sha’n’t mind for 
dinner, but for supper too—” 

“I guess you can manage to stand it,” replied 
Mrs. Gard perversely, and Colinette understood 
that she was not forgiven for what had passed the 
night before. 

Mrs. Gard watched the three girls go down the 
hill together, then she hastily cluttered the break¬ 
fast dishes into the kitchen sink and put on her 
hat and wrap. 

“If I wait to wash the dishes either my Susan or 
Rinthy Pickens or Mrs. Klatz will be over to spend 
the day, and Pm in too much of a flutter to fuss 
with any of ’em,” she muttered. 

She sat down at Colinette’s little desk and 
wrote something carefully on a sheet of paper, 
read it critically, tore it up and wrote again. 
Three times she wrote and three times she de¬ 
stroyed what she wrote. Her last effort she con¬ 
templated for a time with a scowl of dissatisfac¬ 
tion. 

“Well, it will have to do,” she reflected. She 
tucked it into her bag, locked her door and hur- 
ied away, not in the direction of the stores nor 
Sister Kize’s, but straight north, by the Plummer 


328 (THE GREEN EYED ONE 

corner, across Main Street to the one leading to 
the railway station and telegraph office. She 
braced herself for an unpleasant ten minutes with 
Myron Ford, the telegraph operator, and entered 
the office. 

In spite of the pains she had taken with her 
message, “to make it tell the person she was 
sendin’ it to what she wanted to tell him, and still 
to keep Myron Ford in the dark,’ 1 she felt it to be 
nothing less than a glaring confession of her own 
and Colinette’s innermost sacred thoughts and de¬ 
sires. However, fortune was kind to her. The 
face of a strange, business-like young operator 
appeared at the little window, a person who did 
not even know her by name. She heaved a sigh 
of relief and handed him her message. 

“How long will it take that to git to Florida and 
an answer to come back?” she asked yearningly. 

“If it finds its destination at once, and the per¬ 
son to whom it is sent replies at once, it will take 
—well, possibly three hours, for messenger serv¬ 
ice and all.” 

“Thank you. I’ll set right here in the depot 
and wait,” she announced, and the young 
man went about his business without further 
comment. 

Susan, from the midst of a whirl of ribbon 
bolts, every one of which must be unrolled and 
rolled again in the business of inventorying, bent 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 329 

to whisper to Colinette, “I’m just dying to have a 
good, long talk with you.” 

“Come home to lunch with me. You remember, 
I shall be alone.’’ 

Susan accepted the invitation eagerly, and the 
two left the shop together, carrying a bandbox 
containing a hat which was to be delivered at a 
house on Depot Street. 

When they reached that quiet street Susan 
threw an arm about her cousin and kissed her im¬ 
pulsively. 

“Why this demonstration?” smiled Colinette, 
“I’m not Willie.” 

“Colinette,” fluttered Susan, “you’re an awful 
good girl!” 

“Of course, I know that.” 

“I’m not joking.” 

“Neither am I.” 

“You have forgiven me, then?” 

It was a moment before Colinette could recall 
her cousin’s offense against her. “For stealing 
Willie away from me?” 

“Yes. You know—really—Willie has always 
loved me. It was just a sort of—of—oh, you 
know, an infatuation that he felt for you. It 
wasn’t a real, downright, lifelong—oh, it wasn’t 
the real thing, Colinette. Do you understand 
what I mean?” 

“I think I do,” said Colinette slowly. 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


330 

“Em—I’m just ashamed of myself to be so 
happy, knowing that—you must be unhappy al¬ 
though of course you don’t show it or own up 
to it.” 

“Goodness! don’t mind me,” exclaimed Coli- 
nette with great earnestness. “Don’t let my state 
of—well, single blessedness cast the least shadow 
on your happiness, Sue, dear.” 

“It does, though,” owned Susan, piously. “Af¬ 
ter all you had done for me it was downright 
treachery—oh yes it was, and I’m willing to own 
it. Don’t I know how you felt about it? Didn’t 
I go through the same trouble over that horrid 
old Jeff Plummer? I was jealous of you—I hated 
you so— Why, Colinette, I could have stran¬ 
gled you! And afterward I found out how mis¬ 
taken I was; he was in love with you all right, but 
you weren’t in love with him, of course, I know 
that now. But if I hadn’t thought you were to 
blame in that affair, I don’t think I should have 
ever begun with Willie. At first it was just a 
sort of flirtation, just to let you see how it felt 
to have another girl butting in on your love affair, 
you know. It went on that way for some time—” 

“Oh, of course,” agreed Colinette, “let’s not 
talk about it, Sue.” 

“But I must confess a little to you, Colinette,” 
persisted Susan. “I knew you were awfully mad 
and hurt when you caught a ride with somebody 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


33i 

and ran away from camp, but he has never told 
me what passed between you two down there at 
the fence gap which made you run away. He al¬ 
ways says, ‘oh, let’s forget all about that. Coli- 
nette’s all right. She’ll be glad I married you 
instead of her after a while.’ And, of course, I 
know Willie is right, but—” 

“He is right, Sue. I’m glad already. Now 
isn’t it fine and lovely for me to forgive you and 
Willie so—so entirely? Well then, if you wish 
to repay me, just do this for me, Sue dear: never 
mention the matter to me again, nor to Willie, and 
of course, to no one else in all the wide world, 
neither your father nor your mother nor—nor to 
Uncle Waldo Pickens.” 

“To Uncle Waldo Pic—” Susan turned to 
stare at Colinette before she burst out laughing. 

“Well, you take the blue ribbon. I wish I 
could get away with troubles as easily as you can. 
There I just went haywire—crazy, you know— 
when you carried off my steady; I carry off yours, 
and in two days you can joke about it. Uncle 
Waldo Pickens! As if I ever told Uncle Waldo 
Pickens anything!” 

She sobered again, and remarked very seriously, 
“but you don’t feel things as deeply as I do, Coli¬ 
nette; you are more—oh, sort of frivolous. Now 
that isn’t exactly what I mean either. But you 
don’t love as hard as I do.” 




THE GREEN EYED ONE 


332 

“That’s it, Sue. I have the artistic tempera¬ 
ment, and the artistic temperament is invariably 
light—frothy—we artistically temperamental folk 
flit from flower to flower, so to speak—” 

Susan gave her cousin a rapturous look—an 
admiring look. “But I do hope you will come 
across some good man whom you can stick to and 
marry and be happy. It’s just wonderful to be 
married.” 

“Yes, Sue, but marriage isn’t for everybody, 
you understand, and I shall be happy with just 
grandmother to love and take care of.” 

“That will be pretty dull work,” owned Susan 
commiseratingly. “Not but that gam’ma is a dear 
soul—” 

Colinette had grasped Susan’s arm convul¬ 
sively. They were passing the railway station, 
and within, Colinette had caught sight of the 
top of a dearly beloved head, where grand¬ 
mother patiently awaited the answer to her 
message. 

Colinette hastily directed her cousin’s attention 
away from the station windows to a woman pass¬ 
ing on the other side of the street. 

“Look,” she whispered, “but don’t say a word 
until we are well past.” 

“What is it?” demanded Susan, staring. 

“A hat which wasn’t bought at our store.” 

“How do you know it wasn’t ?” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


333 

“Do you think Gusta would let anything so 
horrible go out?” 

Susan laughed, and turned to gaze after the 
stranger, remarking that Colinette needn’t feel 
j ealous as that woman did not belong in Redmoon 
and had a right to buy hats in some other town. 
And thus the station was safely passed and Susan 
had not seen. 

After this Colinette became almost hysterically 
gay. Susan could not understand her. Such a 
mood was unusual with her. 

Before they were through with their simple 
midday meal Mrs. Gard arrived. She too seemed 
in a hilarious frame of mind. 

“You didn’t go to Mrs. Kize’s, then?” ques¬ 
tioned Colinette. 

“Nope.” 

“Oh, you have been doing some extravagant 
buying. I know, Susan, what she has in her bag; 
the wedding present.” 

“When I buy Susan's weddin’ present it ain’t 
going to be anything I can carry home in my bag. 
When Susan finds out where she’s going to live 
I’m going to git her her kitchen stove. A young 
housekeeper always gits fooled buyin’ her kitchen 
stove.” 

Five days later Colinette, alone in the studio 
(where Jeff Plummer troubled her no more) ex¬ 
perimented in making the snow fly off the Pick- 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


334 

enses' hen-house roof in every way except that 
suggested by her grandmother, “up and down like 
a streak of lightnin’.” Drifting snow though 
erratic is not quite so erratic as that. A sharp 
rap on her door interrupted her. She rose to ad¬ 
mit her caller, rather fearing a return of Jeff 
Plummer. 

It was not Jeff Plummer, but her grandmother 
who confronted her. Mrs. Gard was dressed in 
her Sunday best. She evidently expected Coli- 
nette to be a good deal startled. 

But Colinette was not startled. Grandmother 
Gard would have been the startled one could she 
have read the thought in the girl's mind, “I'm 
glad she has put on her best dress; I wanted her 
to look her sweetest.” 

She would not come in. She was plainly ex¬ 
cited. “I want you to take a walk with me,” she 
announced. 

“How nice,” said Colinette, and made haste to 
put away her brushes. 

They paced along the length of Brown Street, 
turned on to Jefferson, crossed the railroad, 
passed the windmill factory and the Methodist 
church. At the long deserted Brackley mansion 
they turned in and went slowly up the front walk 
between borders of aster, michaelmas daisy and 
dwarf goldenrod to the pillared porch. Here 
Neal Brackley came out to meet them. He was 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


335 

expecting Mrs. Gard, and she was not at all sur¬ 
prised at his appearance. The queer part of it 
was that the one who should have been too much 
surprised for words, seemed not to be surprised 
at all. It was like a scene upon the silver screen, 
full of meaning, but wordless. 

Grandmother Gard settled into the easychair 
which Neal drew out for her, a little awestruck 
and embarrassed by the grandeur about her; the 
grand piano, the shadowy paintings, the Eastern 
rugs, as Colinette had once described them, glint¬ 
ing like precious stones where the light from the 
curtained windows struck across them. 

Mrs. Gard cleared her throat and began in a 
solemn voice: 

“I thought best to have this talk here where 
there wa’n’t any chance of the Pickenses or Dun¬ 
laps bustin’ in, so,” she turned to Colinette, “I 
asked Neal to meet us here.” 

Colinette was pale. She sat with her eyes 
downcast, the hollows under her cheekbones pain¬ 
fully evident in the dull light of the curtained 
room. 

“Colinette says you asked her to marry you, 
and she refused/’ 

“That is the painful truth, grandmother,” ac¬ 
knowledged Neal. 

“Did she say she wouldn’t have you because she 
liked somebody else better ?” 


336 THE GREEN EYED ONE 
“Yes” 

This answer startled Mrs. Gard; she had not 
expected it. 

‘Who?” she questioned faintly. 

“You,” answered Neal, and the tension in Mrs. 
Gard’s attitude relaxed visibly. 

“That’s a whopper! She likes you best of any¬ 
body, but she wouldn’t have you because I 
wouldn’t let her break a promise made to me a 
good while ago and tell a secret that we decided 
was best kept to ourselves. Nobody but us two 
knows it, and there was no use anybody else ever 
to know it this side the grave. But she 
wouldn’t have it that way. She wouldn’t tell, 
but she has forced me to—” 

Colinette made a convulsive movement to take 
her grandmother’s hand, but that lady kept her¬ 
self free and went on: 

“The secret is, that Colinette ain’t my kin; that 
none of my blood flows in her veins. She is—” 

“An impostor,” breathed Colinette, and for the 
first time raised her eyes to Neal’s face. 

He came and raised her out of the chair and 
held her in a compelling embrace. “Who cares?” 
he challenged. “She may be the Queen of Sheba 
or the king’s beggar maid, she is mine now and 
forever.” 

“Wait,” commanded Grandmother Gard, “till 
you hear the hull story before you settle things.” 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


337 

Colinette made an effort to free herself from 
his embrace but he would not have it. 

“Why say another word about it?” he de¬ 
manded. “You wanted it kept secret, grand¬ 
mother, then why not keep it so ? Only one thing 
matters to me, and that is that I have my girl 
again. You picked her up in the past and cher¬ 
ished her—” 

“No, Neal, I picked grandmother up,” confessed 
Colinette. 

“And cherished me,” added grandmother, with 
a slight tremble in her voice, “and cherished 
me. 

“I chose my relatives to suit myself,” said Coli¬ 
nette. “My own were swept away to oblivion in 
a railway wreck. I had no name; I was just 
Number 154 in an orphan asylum. I chose my 
own name—Colinette. I thought it pretty and— 
romantic. Do you?” 

He still held her close. He looked down upon 
her smiling, and all that he said was, “Colinette! 
Little Colinette!” 

“Then you still want her after learning the 
horrible truth that she ain’t got any of the slow, 
blunderin’ Gard blood in her veins? If you do, 
although you ain’t asked it, I give my consent to 
your weddin’.” 

“I didn’t ask for it, because I took it for granted 
the moment I got your message. The lovely part 



338 THE GREEN EYED ONE 

of this affair is that my folks are as anxious for 
this marriage—almost—as I am. I wasn’t at 
home the day your telegram arrived. It was 
father who sent you the answer. My dear old 
dad knows a thing or two, grandmother.” 

It was dusk, and a slip of a moon stole out into 
the evening as the trio walked back together to the 
little gray house on the hill. As they talked over 
many things; Neal’s plan to revive his grand¬ 
father’s old manufacturing activities in Redmoon; 
“to open the old plant and make things to sell, 
things that folks need and that they will be glad 
to buy,” he explained. He would put Willie Klatz 
at the head of the concern and eventually take him 
in as partner. 

His mother fancied that she was healthier in 
the South, consequently his own people would 
never live in Redmoon again. But Colinette loved 
Redmoon. The three of them would make Red¬ 
moon their headquarters, living together in the 
old Brackley place. 

Mrs. Gard vetoed this scheme so far as she was 
concerned. They had arrived at her door, and 
she bent with a little affectionate flourish and put 
the key in the lock. 

“This little house fits me better,” she said, “and 
as long as I am hearty and healthy I shall stay 
right in it.” 

Colinette went in to light the supper fire, and 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 339 

Grandmother Gard laid a detaining hand on 
Neal’s arm. 

“I want to warn you,” she said, “you’re biting 
off a big mouthful when you take her for better 
or for worse. She’s got a will like a copper kettle; 
it can be bent, but not busted. If she takes it into 
her head a thing ought to be so, if she can’t do it 
herself she’ll fool other folks into doin’ it. 

“Take Susan and her love affairs: You’d 
think a girl had a right to pick out the man she 
wants to marry, wouldn’t you? Well, Susan 
wa’n’t allowed to pick out her own husband. No 
sir, Colinette picked him out. Wonderful part of 
it is, Susan don’t know it and never will, because 
Colinette and I ain’t talkin’ about it to nobody 
but you.” 

“Colinette has never intimated it to me,” 
laughed Neal. 

“She sent you off with the mitten because I 
wouldn’t give in and let her tell you that she didn’t 
rightfully belong to me. You see I thought she 
did when she first come here to me. She passed 
herself off as my son John’s girl. When she 
turned out so smart and so pretty, I thought that 
John, as her father, and me as her grandmother, 
must have had more in us than folks give us 
credit for havin’ and I was just all puffed up with 
pride. 

“Then, for certain reasons, she thought the 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 


340 

truth ought to be told, and so she told me, and I 
tell you, my pride took a fall. I might a known 
that no Gard could be as smart as that girl was. 
She didn’t have a Gard trait—not one; we was 
all black and slow and heavy; she was red and 
little and quick as lightnin’; us Gards always 
blurted out everything an’ then give up easy; she 
was still and deep and worked things out to suit 
herself. 

“But she can’t always manage me. It wasn’t 
her doings my sendin’ for you—” 

Neal broke into such sudden boyish laughter 
that Mrs. Gard eyed him suspiciously. 

“Unless she knew me well enough to be sure 
that I would do just what I did do—send for you. 
Unless she planned so that I would be driv to do 
the tellin’ myself. Do you think she done that?” 

He still kept up his laughing, but he put his 
arm around grandmother Gard and chucked her 
under the chin. “What difference does it make? 
I am here, and Colinette has given her promise, 
and Colinette never breaks a promise. What dif¬ 
ference does it make, grandmother?” 

“Well, it shows you what you’re cornin’ to, 
don’t it? She’ll have her way by hook or crook, 
and you can be thankful that it’s generally a good 
way.” 

“And as for the secret,” promised Neal, 
suddenly very serious, “it shall never be breathed 


THE GREEN EYED ONE 341 

by any of us. I will not even tell my own dear 
father, which is putting it strong, for we are 
chums and I always tell him about everything.” 

He stooped and kissed grandmother reverently. 
Luther Dunlap, who had come out to look at the 
thermometer, saw the kiss and rushed back into 
the house to announce his suspicions to his wife. 

THE END 






























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